


Is this really family life?

by CALLEN37



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CALLEN37/pseuds/CALLEN37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callen is 14, he is sent to a family who speak little to no English and he learns what it's like to be a part of something bigger than himself. WIP updated on Sunday's only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Является ли это действительно семейной жизни?**

**(Is this really family life?)**

Chapter 1

The social worker walked up the path as a mid-sized green canvas bag came sailing out of the door and landed on the path, swiftly followed by a blond haired blue eyed teenager sporting a black eye and bruised arm.

"Get him out of here!" A red faced angry looking man yelled at the social worker.

"You should be arrested you!" The teenager yelled back, "Perv!" he spat.

"Why! I ought to….!" The man turned to hit the teenager again and the social worker stood in the way.

"Don't worry Mr. Bayliss, you will not be looking after any more children…ever," She told him standing between him and the kid.

"This is all your fault." The man snarled at the kid.

The kid looked at him emotionless as the social worker moved him to the car.

* * *

"You spotted that one pretty quickly?" Aileen said as she bundled the teenager into the car. "You've only been here a day."

"It kinda gave it away when he tried to grope me as he showed me 'his' room where I was to sleep." The kid snarled pulling his feet up onto the seat of the car and curling himself into a ball as he rode away in the back of the station wagon that belonged to his social worker.

Aileen looked at the kid in the rear-view mirror and sighed, "You are most difficult to place you know."

"You want me to get out now then." The kid replied with a smirk although his hand tightened on his bag.

"I managed to find a place for you…I'm not sure how long this placement is for, it's a nice family," She stopped as she saw his eyes roll.

"Suuuurrrreeee!" he drawled sarcastically.

"It's in Little Armenia, a nice Russian family, a husband and wife…."

"They got Kids?" he asked.

"Yes a four year old, Alaina." Aileen said smiling finally he was talking again. "Before we get there, anything broken?" she asked knowing by now to trust his judgment on these things rather than waste a fight at the hospital.

"No, I'm good. So when does my child-minding stint start."

Aileen sighed again, "Maybe it'll be different this time." She said brightly.

"Come on! If they've got kids they usually only want us for child minding or to look good for the neighbors, either way I'll hate it." He said.

"Give it a chance." She said.

"Fine." He snapped. It wasn't like he had a choice…well he did but he wasn't going back there again…and there was no way after Mr. Bayliss' conversation about their sleeping arrangements that he was going to spend one night under his roof.

* * *

The car pulled up outside a small one-storey house, it looked clean enough, and there was no dog…always good, Dogs meant competition if he didn't get fed or sometimes he was bullied by the elder kids getting their dogs to bark and try and bite him.

Aileen got out and opened the door for him and he held his bag like a life preserver. It was after all, all he owned in the world.

He hung back as she knocked on the door.

"Derzhis' , derzhis' ya idu !" he heard from behind the door.

A large smiling blonde haired woman in a half apron with her hair in a bun opened the door. "Hello?" she said.

"Aileen Sommers, Children Services." Aileen said introducing herself.

"Yes?" The woman looked confused.

"Svetlana Rostov?"

"Da….sorry, Yes?" she replied

Aileen laughed, "Sorry I wasn't sure I have the right house. I have a child for you…he's a bit older than you asked for, but this is an emergency and your name came up."

"Come in, come in." she said smiling, Aileen walked in and the kid shuffled behind, he'd heard the conversation and really didn't want to go in, they weren't expecting him and he was the wrong age, they were gonna be nice to the worker and nasty to him and blame him the moment she left.

He looked at her, she had nice eyes, but he never let a kindly face be a judge of character.

She went to put her hand on his shoulder and he shrank back.

"O, moy bednyy mal'chik" she said looking him up and down.

"What?" He asked.

"Sorry I said, oh you poor boy." She said, "I mean nothing by this, except you look scared, we will not hurt you…you are safe here."

He looked around, checking his escape route and for other dangers.

"But you don't believe me no?" she said with a smile. She turned to the kitchen, "Alaina, Anatoly we have visitors."

* * *

A little blonde haired girl ran out and grabbed hold of her mother's skirt and looked at the boy and smiled. "Privet" she said to him. "Hi."

"Hello!" A large dark haired Russian man walked out and the boy moved closer to the door his eyes instantly focused on the man's hands.

Anatoly broke into a huge grin… "Hello boy….I am named Anatoly and I learning American…I very good yes?" he asked.

He laughed as the boy moved further back at the sound of his loud voice.

Aileen moved him forward, "Come on…it's getting late, we need to get you settled." She said.

"Here!" he asked looking scared at the family that didn't even speak English, that itself would be hard enough but the father scared him….they all did….all except the little girl.

Aileen looked at him…. "it's here or Bayliss" she said it was an idle threat and they both knew it still holding his bag he walked into the living room and sat on a huge overstuffed sofa with crocheted covers over the back of the seats.

* * *

The adults sat in the living room after the mother put the little girl to bed.

"I am Svetlana and this is my husband Anatoly Rostov. Do not mind that he is loud. He is a big bear." She smiled.

"Callen." He said.

Svetlana looked at Aileen and asked, "First or last name?"

"Just Callen…or G." Callen said looking at his feet.

"Ah! Anatoly said clapping, "American knick knack names. I like I am also having one called Toli by my friends." He laughed.

Callen couldn't help but let out a small smile.

Aileen looked at him. "Just try one night Callen, ok?" she pleaded. "Be here tomorrow." She begged him; she really didn't want to have to spend months looking for him.

He shrugged not promising anything.

Aileen looked at Callen and sighed, "You G. Callen are my most difficult case, and my favorite child, although you know I am not allowed favorites." She winked and ruffled his hair one of the few people he allowed to touch him. "I will be back first thing tomorrow, 9am on the dot…just try tonight…if you don't like it I will try to find you another placement although it may be a few days…but I'll try."

Callen let out a small smile, Aileen had been his social worker for all of his ten year stint in foster care, she had been the first adult he could remember and once had even mistaken her for his mother. Although she had put him right on that one she was just as proud of him as if he had been her own son.

He nodded and stood on the step next to Svetlana as Aileen's car swept off into the dusk.

* * *

He ducked as Svetlana turned to go into the house, she stopped to look at him, "It is alright child, come we feed you and show you your bed to sleep in." she said.

Callen followed her wearily. He hadn't slept in 24 hours and he was beginning to feel it.

She opened a door to a small room with a single bed a dresser and an angle-poise white lamp, "There is a closet there for your clothes, although I think you can put your bag in there for now, that is our yard, you may go out when you wish." She said

The room was clean and comfortable and he tried the bed, it seemed nice…but he knew about assumptions, he didn't make them.

"Come…I make food, you eat yes?" she asked.

He nodded, Bayliss hadn't given him anything to eat he had spent the whole day staring at him and giving him the creeps.

He smelled a stew cooking in the kitchen and his stomach grumbled, Svetlana smiled, "I give you plenty food, you too skinny!" she said.

She pointed to a chair and he sat in it dutifully.

"Toli, Alaina…..Uzhin!" she called.

Callen looked at her, "It means Dinner…our evening meal, Da... yes?" she said.

Callen sat around the table and listened as the family conversed to each other in fluent Russian, with only the occasional English word being bantered about.

One thing was sure, if we were to stay here…and the family dynamic was nice, if they let him he might give this place a chance, he would have to learn Russian quickly.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Vse prosypat'sya, eto prekrasnoy dnya snaruzhi!" Toli said in his loud voice as he woke up.

Callen, having no idea what he had just said, shot out of bed dressed and was quickly making the bed and listening for trouble too scared to leave the room.

Svetlana opened the door fully expecting to have to wake her new charge up and was surprised to find him sat bag packed cross legged on the bed.

Raising an eyebrow but not wanting to scare him she smiled, "Good morning Callen, I trust my husband's happiness at the day did not scare you?"

Callen looked at her, "His what?" he smirked hiding the fact that it had scared him to death.

"That is just his way, it is 6am and we awake now?" she said not sure she had got it right, "He said 'Everybody wake up, it is a beautiful day outside…and it is, is it not?" she asked.

He turned and looked out of his window, she was right it was nice out there, flowers in the garden were starting to bloom and Alaina was dressed and outside playing in a small sandpit in the corner of the garden.

Svetlana looked at the boy, who was sat on his bed and she wanted to weep, she had seen him last night asleep, fully dressed leant against the window curled up into a ball. She had managed to sneak up on him and place a quilt over him without waking him up.

She had looked in on him and he was murmuring, she had quietly picked up the quilt and laid it over his shoulders.

"Don't!" he had said still asleep and moved away from her, "Don't hurt me," he had said, She had decided there and then they would do all they could to keep this broken boy and make him whole.

She and Toli had talked late into the night about keeping him, both agreeing that they would talk to him after breakfast and after they had met with his social worker, They had originally asked to foster a child about the same age as their daughter. But when Aileen had turned up with this boy, her heart had ached for him, there was something….something about him that said he needed her more than he would ever admit.

* * *

Callen looked up at the woman and could see she was thinking, obviously he had done something wrong, but he didn't know what and wasn't going to upset her, she seemed like a nice lady and he felt no threat from her, but her husband…Toli, he was another matter.

"You breakfast now?" She asked and smiled as he nodded, grabbed his bag and followed her to the kitchen.

He sat at the kitchen table and watched her work as Toli sang in the bathroom and Alaina played happily. Svetlana was humming a tune and the whole family seemed happy. There was an air of peace in this house that he had never felt before.

He looked at the table in front of him, a loaf of Black 'Rye' bread sat in the middle of the table with a large knife and a pot of butter sat next to it.

Svetlana reached up and got some pots and a big mixing bowl out of the cupboard and started adding flour and eggs to it, "I make for you Bliny, you are here and it is a special occasion yes?" she smiled.

"Bliny…?" Callen looked confused,

Sveta turned to him, "Like your American pancakes, now are you thirsty, we have tea or milk."

Callen looked at her, so this family, no cereal or juice in sight; she also started putting a pan of water on to boil.

"Alaina vy khotite bliny ili kashu na zavtrak?" she called

"Kashu Mama!" she replied smiling.

Sveta smiled as she poured the buckwheat into the pan, "My daughter she loves her porridge."

She finished setting the table as Toli walked in and put two large glass bottles on the table.

Callen looked at them warily, he had hoped that Toli wouldn't be a big drinker, but these were at least three liter bottles. He poured four glasses and to Callen's surprise called Alaina in and handed her a glass and then passed one to him.

"It is a celebration today, you drink Kvass with breakfast?" Callen looked stunned, it smelled awful, sweet but malty, like beer.

"I don't drink alcohol she shouldn't either!" he snapped pointing at the little girl.

Alaina smiled at him and reached for her glass.

"NO!" Callen shouted trying to keep her away from harm.

"Mama?" Alaina looked sad

Sveta nodded to Toli who took Alaina away back to the garden, "Callen…Kvass is a soft drink, it is suitable for children, we would not do anything to harm Alaina or you…you are a very dear boy to be so protective of our little one, you would make a good big brother for her," she said calming him down

Callen shrugged, he knew after this mistake she would be sending him on.

* * *

He sat back as she dished up the breakfast, Pancakes with butter for Callen, porridge for Alaina and both Sveta and Toli ate black bread with sausage and something Sveta called Tvorog which looked like a gloopy cottage cheese.

Alaina drank her milk as did Callen as they both drank black tea and the family chatted happily as Callen quietly watched them.

Most foster homes he had been in had a table where kids ate and ran the house parent would be usually stressed and not care if they ate or not, for Callen to see a family sitting chatting and a family that obviously cared for each other floored him.

He found himself not wanting to leave…he felt a tight knot forming in his stomach, he had only been there a night how could he want to stay, he never wanted to stay anywhere and they never wanted him, he blinked back a tear that started to form and looked at the clock on the wall.

It was 7.30am and he knew that Aileen would be picking him up at 9am and this little slice of heaven, where he actually felt unafraid would be over.

He wanted to talk to them, he wanted to feel a part of the family, he wanted to smile when they included him in the conversation, when Alaina made a funny face at him he couldn't help but smile back for the first time he could see when she made the face it wasn't out of malice but for no other reason than to make him smile.

"You have a lovely smile." Sveta told him,

Callen looked at the floor…..'Please don't go gross!' he thought….After things with Bayliss he didn't want anything like that to ruin his impression of this family.

Sveta saw his face, again she looked at her husband and she knew they were planning on doing the right thing.

"Callen….?" Sveta asked.

Callen dropped his fork, 'here we go, the, 'I'm sorry but you don't fit…we were hoping for someone, younger, older, a girl….not you' speech.' He thought.

"We would like you to stay." Sveta asked.

Callen nodded sadly and then stopped. "What?"

"You have proven you are a good child, you tried to save our Alaina from something you thought was a threat, although you were not what we were expecting…you are better." Sveta said and Callen looked like someone had just told him he was half-alien.

"We will not ask, if you wish to leave us….but if you would like to stay…?"

Callen broke into a huge grin, "I…I am better?...Me!...you want me?" he stammered. Never had anyone ever wanted him to stay anywhere before, they had just kept him as long as the social had told them to.

Sveta nodded and started to clear the table.

* * *

Aileen pulled up outside the one-storey house and sighed, she still hadn't found a place for Callen to go, placing a fourteen year old boy was not as easy as placing a girl or a younger child, teenage boys tended to come with their own set of problems and Callen came with more than most. On top of all of that, she had reported Bayliss to the authorities and she needed to talk to Callen about him going to the police station and giving a statement, she wasn't looking forward to that.

She grabbed his folder, took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Sveta opened it with a smile and ushered her in.

Aileen looked at the woman, ok…she's smiling, Callen isn't standing at the door with his bag ready to go scowling, there's no screaming….then she stopped as a little girls scream came from the back garden.

"Vysshiye, Vysshiye!" The girl screamed.

"Oh God!" Aileen swore and followed the older woman out of the door and stopped dead at the sight before her.

* * *

Callen and Alaina were on the swing and Alaina was giggling as four year olds do…but the thing that floored her was that Callen was laughing.

"Callen!" Aileen said shocked.

He stuck his legs out and stopped the swing. Putting Alaina on his back he walked back to the house with her.

"Ya lyublyu tebya starshiy brat." Alaina said and kissed his cheek and ran to her room to play.

"She said she loved her big brother," Sveta told him.

Callen smiled. "Aileen, they want to keep me!" he grinned.

Aileen was floored, she hadn't seen him this animated in years, "Are you sure, is this what you want?"

Callen nodded, "The food is weird, but I've had worse, I made a mistake this morning and I wasn't hit, they said it was ok and I was good for caring about Alaina."

Aileen looked at Sveta, "Toli gave the children Kvass, Callen thought it was alcohol and tried to save our Alaina, he was very brave."

Aileen sat looking at the woman, who in the short space of time since she had left Callen was looking at him in a way no one had ever, she looked like she loved him.

* * *

Aileen, sighed, she hoped this was finally it, the final placement, "Very well, lets fill out the paperwork and we will have you as 's official foster parents, as long as you are ok with this Callen, especially with the language barrier?"

"YA khochu ostat'sya zdes'?" Callen said looking at Sveta, who suddenly looked all emotional. "Did I get it wrong?" Callen asked worried.

"I want to stay here?…No Callen, you got it right…how you learn?" she asked overwhelmed that this boy had made the effort to learn her language.

"Alaina taught me. She said I was to say it to you if I wanted to be her big brother." Callen said softly.

Sveta blinked back tears and turned to Aileen, "We will fill in the forms so he can be my son…Callen…if you wish you may call me Mama and Toli, Papa."

It was Callen's turn to look stunned, Aileen had never seen him take to a family like this, She watched as he swallowed and gave her a lopsided grin.

He wiped as stray tear that escaped, "Thank you…M…Mama…" His voice cracked on the last word and he flung himself into her arms.

Wrapping him up in the tightest, safest and warmest hug he had had in his entire life, she stroked his head, "Moy mal'chik, vy doma, my child you are home."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Aileen reached into her bag and got out the paper work that would make this placement permanent.

"I am glad you like being here Callen, I really am. I hope this works out for you," Aileen said as she filled in the forms. "I also need to talk to you and your carers about Bayliss." She said.

Callen's mood changed, "He's gone…done, we don't need to talk about him." He snapped.

"Yes we do, I had him arrested yesterday and we need you to come to the police station to give a statement, we have no idea how many other children he has actually hurt, we need to make sure he won't do this again." She prodded gently.

Callen looked forlornly at the ground.

"You will not do this alone Callen…I will be with you the whole time if you wish me to be." Sveta said.

Callen nodded, he hadn't ever wanted to see Bayliss again, but for the sake of any other child who may end up in his clutches he needed to do this.

Sveta pulled Toli in the kitchen and after a frenzied conversation she walked back up to Callen, "My husband is of agreement, I will go with you and he will stay with Alaina, he does not want to be near the man who hurt his boy…he would get angry and that would be wrong." She said Callen moved closer to her as they walked out of the house. It was chilly and Sveta looked at Callen.

"You get your coat…it is cold."

* * *

Callen looked at her, Never had anyone told him to get a coat, wrap up warm, or be careful…unless he was touching something of theirs, but not to worry about him, he wasn't sure what it was about the woman, but she had gotten past all of the defenses that Callen had built up over the years and he found himself comforted by this.

"I…I don't have a coat." He whispered not wanting to upset her.

"No...You!" she said jabbing a finger at Aileen, "You should have made sure he had a coat…good clothes…" she said reproachfully.

"It's LA…A coat is not a necessity the city will only pay for necessities not other items, that is for the foster parents to do." She said.

"Chert voz'mi!" she snapped, "Then you have not placed this boy with decent foster parents…We will fetch you clothes, and a new coat, before we go to the police station." She ordered.

Aileen was going to argue but the look on Sveta's face stopped her.

"It's ok Mama Rostov." Callen said. "I don't need a coat."

Sveta smiled at the use of her name, "My boy, there are a great many things that you need that you have not had, a coat is the least of them and while you are with me you will have all you need." She promised.

They climbed into the car and drove to the mall, Aileen watched in the rear view mirror as her hardest, toughest case slowly moved across the seat until he was underneath his new foster mother's arm.

Two hours later laden with bags containing new shoes, shirts, pants, undergarments and socks and proudly wearing a new bomber jacket, Callen, Aileen and Sveta headed to the police station.

* * *

Detective Dean Jensen was waiting as they arrived, "You're later than I thought you would be, the boy playing you up again?" he asked with a smile.

"Morning Dean." Callen grinned as he sat in his usual seat by the detective's desk.

"Woah! Look at you, smiling and new threads….What happened to my hard case?"

"Detective Jensen, I am Svetlana Rostov, My son has come to give you a statement." She said holding out her hand.

"Your….your son? Callen….you got adopted?" Dean grinned at the boy.

Callen shrugged, "Nope, by Mama Rostov wants to keep me." He let out a hopeful grin.

"Ma'am, if you can pull of a change like this in 24 hours, you are just the thing our boy needs." Dean Jensen and Callen went way back.

Dean had been pulling Callen out of trouble and off the streets since he was six. He had taken the boy under his wing and although, because he was a single man he wasn't able to foster the boy it didn't stop him from looking out for him from time to time, he like Callen's sense of humor and swore blind there was a good kid under the tough no compromise exterior he showed to everyone else.

Dean pulled a grape Tootsie pop out of his drawer and handed it to Callen who immediately unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth, "His favorite, since he was six," Dean explained to Sveta as he handed her a chair.

"You're the only one, who gives 'em, to me," Callen smirked.

Dean took a sip of his coffee. "Ok G, what happened yesterday?" he asked.

* * *

"Aileen was out sick yesterday morning so I had Sharon Leeson, she's a student worker, drop me off at my new house, she came in met Bayliss and did the paperwork, usual stuff," Callen started, he looked at Sveta who just looked lovingly at him and he moved closer to her.

"Go on."

"Well, after she left Bayliss just stared at me, I didn't know what I was supposed to do so I did what I normally do I sat and waited, He…He took photos of me, said it was for his wall, Most 'rents do that so I didn't think anything of it, then…then he said he needed one of me with my top off, just to make sure if I had any scars, he had a list, on child services paper, said it said on there, a new policy; I didn't believe it but I didn't want to make him mad, he leered at me but did nothing worse than just take a picture, he took my bag and put it in a room, and told me I had to take a bath, Again not that unusual, some 'rents think we are all filthy and it makes 'em feel better if we are all clean…so I did, then he said…he said….." Callen stopped and got up, "I need a minute…" he walked over to the soda machine.

Aileen got to follow him, but Sveta stopped her, "A moment please," she said and walked over to Callen.

"It's alright Callen, nothing you say here will look bad on you, you are a child and he was wrong,"

Callen nodded, he sat back down and continued, "He said I was pretty and I was to earn my keep and he tried to put his hands in my pants." His voice got quieter and quieter until the last few words were a whisper.

Dean nodded, "What did you do?" he asked.

"I….grabbed the night light and he hit me, I jumped on the bed and hit him around the head then I ran, he fell to the ground and I ran downstairs and called Aileen to come and get me…I hid in the shed at the back until I heard the car and I grabbed my bag and ran through the house, he knocked me down and kicked me as she was parking I ran outside and he threw my bag out of the house…you know the rest," he said turning to Aileen.

"Did he cause any injuries?" Dean asked.

Callen lifted his shirt and Sveta looked distraught as she saw the dark purple bruises on his torso. "Just bruises, nothing major." he said

"Ya did great kid," Dean said, with Callen's testimony and two more they had gotten from some other kids who they had tracked down it looked like Callen was the last kid Bayliss would ever get his hands on.

* * *

As he got up to go a younger officer came in with Bayliss in handcuffs, spotting Callen he started straining at his cuffs, "You lying about me boy, I'll find you, you know…that pretty mouth will be mine!" He spat, Callen backed off and stopped as Sveta held his shoulders.

She put herself between Callen and Bayliss, " **YOU**  are an  **evil** man and you will  **NEVER** get your hands on  **my** son!" she snapped.

Bayliss looked at her in shock. "Your son?" he said, "That kid doesn't belong to anyone…he's scum." Bayliss said his face inches from hers.

"Mr. Bayliss, while I have breath in my body, that boy **is**  my son and I will protect him with everything I have." Sveta said.

She turned and ushered Callen from the room.

Dean turned to Aileen, "You know what, I think Callen just found his family." He smiled as she nodded and turned to catch up.

On the way home Callen leant into Sveta's arm and fell asleep, the trauma of the visit getting to him.

Aileen, noticing he was asleep looked in the mirror at Sveta, "You are good for him, before he gets too settled are you sure you want to take him on."

Sveta looked at her and carefully put her arm around the sleeping boy, "He is  **my**  son." She said leaving no room for argument.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Callen awoke slowly. It was early out still and the clock on his nightstand said 05:20. He stretched and blinked as he had slept the whole night. He was in a  **bed** in new PJ's!

Slowly it came back to him. Coming home from the police station. Aileen signing the paperwork with the Rostov's and Callen having the biggest meal of meat and potatoes he had ever eaten and a loaf of bread - a very strange loaf of bread. It was round and decorated with a lighter dough that had a picture of fields and wheat on it. It was surrounded by a dark wicker basket. Papa Rostov had told him it was a celebration as he now had a son.

There was a knock on his door and Callen sat up in bed.

"Good morning my son, do you wish to play your baseball with me before zavtrak?" Toli asked.

"Zavtrak?" Callen asked.

"Breaking your fast?" Toli asked trying to get it right.

"Oh, breakfast." Callen grinned.

'Ok, breakfast is Zavtrak' Callen said to himself.

He had learned fast to fit into environments, but this one was kind of fun with the learning of a new language. He got dressed as Toli in his usual loud way, roamed the halls of the house waking up the family.

Callen walked into the kitchen to find Sveta already cooking. He kissed her on the cheek and helped himself to a glass of milk.

"G!" Toli's voice came from the garden; he flinched a bit and then smiled as he saw the large man standing there with two baseball gloves and a ball. "You teach me baseball, yes?" he asked.

Callen looked at Sveta for permission, "May I please Mama Rostov?" he asked.

"Da, Moy syn," she replied nodding her head.

Callen looked at her, "Da means yes, right? But Mama, what does  _moy syn_  mean?" he asked.

"Why it means my son. That is who you are and Alaina is  _moy doch'_ , my daughter," she said

Callen grinned and ran out to join his foster father throwing the ball around before breakfast.

* * *

After breakfast, Toli went to work as a dockworker and Sveta got on with her household chores, while Alaina and Callen sat in the garden. Alaina pointed to things and said them in Russian. Callen repeated what she said and then told her what the word was in English.

" _Drevo_ ," she said pointing to the tree.

" _Drevo._  Tree!" he said seriously.

" _Zlak."_  She pointed to the ground.

" _Zlak_. Ground?" She shook her head. "Path?" Again a no. Callen focused. "Grass.  _Zlak._  Grass," he said as she smiled.

" _Malen'kiy sestra,"_  she said pointing solemnly to herself.

Callen thought about it. "Girl. No? Small girl? Look at me?" He was stumped.

"Little sister silly," Alaina jumped into his arms, "and you are,  _Bol'shoy brat_ -big brother," she giggled tickling him until he too laughed.

His outlook on life after being there for a month had changed.

* * *

He was rapidly picking up Russian, he felt a part of the family, and his schooling had improved although he did at one point get a telling off from his teacher after being late for school one morning a month after arriving at the Rostov's

He had dropped Alaina off as Mama had a small cold and he was three minutes late for class.

"Mr. Callen, you are late to my class again," Mr. Bishop said as Callen tried sneaking into his class."

"Sorry sir," Callen said

"Sorry?" Bishop sniped; he was a small annoying man who liked to make examples out of pupils who didn't play by the rules.

"I suppose that's all I can expect of an illiterate foster kid." He laughed. A few of the class laughed along with him.

Callen looked annoyed and turned to his seat.  _"Glupyy uchitel' dumayet, chto on znayet vse!"_  he snapped as he walked to his chair.

Bishop stopped and looked at him, "What did you say boy?"

"I'm sorry sir, I'm just an illiterate foster kid, don't speak English," Callen snapped.

"Of course you do, stop being stupid and get to your seat boy," Bishop growled.

For the whole day Bishop would ask questions and as far as he knew Callen was speaking nonsense, so he had the principle sit in for the last lesson.

"Very well class, I want you to discuss your opinion of the Vietnam War. Mr. Callen do you have anything to share with the class?"

Callen glared at Bishop knowing that he was just pushing his buttons.

He stood and walked to the front of the class,  _"Voyna vo V'yetname velas' v kontse shestidesyatykh, i mnogiye iz lyudey umerli_..." He stopped as the principle stood up.

"Mr. Callen, my office," he ordered and even though the other kids laughed Callen grabbed his bag and walked past Bishop on his way out.  _"Drochili!"_  he said as he walked past.

Bishop got up and followed them.

Waiting outside the office, it wasn't long before he heard the familiar sound of his foster mother's brisk walk.

" _Moy syn,_  what has happened?"

"Mrs. Callen?" the principal asked as he looked out to see the blonde woman hug the boy.

"Mrs. Rostov." She corrected him and they both walked in. "Why have I been called here?" she asked.

"Mr. Callen has been misbehaving in class today," the principle said.

"He has been stubborn, rude, belligerent and talking nonsense all day," Bishop snapped.

Sveta looked at Callen confused, "Mama,  _ya byl grub i voyuyushchego vsego dnya, uchitel' pozvonil mne glupym i togda on skazal, ya ne mog chitat', ni pisat_ ," he said looking as his feet in shame.

Sveta looked sternly at her boy,  _"Zachem ty vedet sebya kak eto?"_  she asked.

"I'm sorry, I just got angry," Callen answered.

The principal and the teacher looked on amazed as 'mother' and son had their conversation.

"I am sorry; it isn't in your records that you are bilingual," the principal said.

Callen shrugged, "I'm not, I just learned since I moved in with Mama Rostov and her family," he admitted. "I'm sorry sir's I was out of line. It's just I took my little sister to school and she was playing. I was only a minute late and Mr. Bishop insisted on making an example out of me. I was out of line."

"Yes you were. You will report to detention all week," Mr. Bishop said. Sveta and the principal agreed with him.

* * *

As Callen and Sveta left the office Callen lagged behind, "Mama? What is my punishment?" he asked. He couldn't help but start shaking as he imagined that now they would send him away - or worse.

Sveta leaned against a wall and pulled her son gently face to face with her, "I will talk with my husband."

Callen's heart sank - he had blown it.

"But I think he will agree with me, no television for this week and you young man will wash up every night."

Callen looked amazed and even though there were other kids and Bishop walking past, he launched into her arms and hugged her.

"Really? You're not going to get rid of me?" he asked with amazement.

"I will not get rid of you, you are family."

Arriving home his heart constricted as Aileen was sitting inside the living room as he took his jacket and shoes off. "Should I bother?" he asked resigned as he looked over at her.

"Of course, I'm not taking you; it's your looked after child review."

"Aren't you supposed to tell me in advance and they are supposed to be at the office?" Callen inquired suspiciously.

"Yes, but Mr. Lennox wanted to have one here, as he wanted to meet the people you have finally settled with. No one is moving you G, you are staying right here," Aileen informed him.

Callen relaxed. He walked into the living room and Alaina jumped into his lap.

"Will you watch TV with me?" she asked.

He bounced her on his knee and she giggled, "I can't, Mama says I cannot watch TV for a week. I was bad in school," he admitted.

"Oh!" she said her eyes going wide "Do you not get a story too?"

Callen smiled, he didn't have stories but she didn't know that, "Nope. But I have to wash up after dinner."

She giggled again as he bounced her on his knee and Aileen smiled at the interaction between them.

The door knocked and Mr. Lennox stood there with a big black briefcase in his hand and a coffee mug in the other, "Afternoon Mrs. Rostov," he said to Sveta as she opened the door.

"Mr. Lennox, welcome to my home," she said and they sat around the table as Alaina played in the back garden.

They started going through the paperwork, Callen looking as bored as ever, when the front door crashed open.

" _YA doma moikh detey!"_

Callen shot out of his seat and crashing into Alaina, who came running in from the back garden, he picked up his little sister and they both ran up to Toli.

"Papa!" they yelled in unison and gave Toli a hug.

John Lennox nearly spat out his coffee. Callen, G. Callen, the one kid who showed no emotion had just run from the table and was hugging the huge bulk of a dockworker -  _and smiling!_

* * *

Toli walked into the kitchen and looked at the man with the briefcase.

"Who are you?" He asked his face going darker, "You are not going to take my son?" he asked.

Mr. Lennox looked up at the man whose face was fierce but fair. He could see the concern for Callen in his eyes, "Mr. Rostov, I can assure you that we have no plans to remove Callen from your care. I have never seen him so settled and happy," he said.

Toli broke out into a huge smile as Callen stood beside him. He turned and sighed, "Mama said to tell you I am on punishment. I was angry at school and I talked back to a teacher. I am to have no TV for a week and I am on washing up," he said.

Lennox sat stunned.  _And now he confessed to misbehaving_? He watched to see how the father of the house would take it.

Toli looked crestfallen, "I am sorry my son, I should have made sure you were ready for school earlier. I will amend my way, but you are responsible for what you said to your teacher and you will make amends tomorrow."

"Yes Papa," Callen said looking admonished and confused, He knew Papa was a smart man, but he hadn't told him he was late for school. "Papa, how did you know I was late?" He asked.

Toli laughed, "You think malyshem that your mama and I do not talk to each other."

Toli looked expectantly at his wife, "You did not ban him from baseball - did you?" He asked as he joined Svetlana and Callen at the table with John and Aileen.

Sveta laughed, "No, you too may still have your baseball," she said.

Callen looked at John, "I am teaching Papa Rostov to play baseball," he said proudly, "and Alaina, Mama and Papa are teaching me Russian. He grinned.

"Callen, I am happy to recommend that your placement here be permanent, if that is what you wish."

Callen grinned, "Yeah, I really love it here. I have a home."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Another month had passed and Callen was feeling settled in his new life.

His room was slowly filling with his own belongings. Books, comics, posters on the wall and clothes he would keep until he outgrew them. Sleeping through the night was a welcomed pleasure. He attributed being well rested, and having a family and a home, to the rise in his grades at school.

While they awaited Toli's return from work, Sveta, Callen and Alaina were in the living room, each reading a book. Callen was getting hungry but Sveta was very insistent the family had dinner together.

Toli walked in and hugged Svetlana, who was reading to Alaina.

"Good evening my husband." She smiled and gave him a kiss.

Callen looked up from the book that he was reading on the floor.  _"Papa ty v poryadke?"_  Callen asked. Toli looked shaken and a bit grey.

"I am well my son. Take Alaina out and play on the swing," he suggested.

Callen looked at him concerned but went anyway.

* * *

Svetlana sat and looked at her husband. "Toli are you sure you are well?" she asked.

"Something strange happened today. I was talking about my son, and then someone started asking questions about him."

Svetlana looked with concern at Callen playing in the garden throwing a ball as Alaina ran shrieking with laughter after it. He looked so happy; she did not want anything to hurt him.

"You must call the police, they must know. I do not understand, Callen is a boy, why would the man at work be interested in him? What did you see Toli?" she asked.

"Some investors for a company in Romania were visiting, I think they may be Mafia, but when I was telling Alec about Callen's new test scores, the man was suddenly interested in him. He asked where he was from, was he adopted, and how old he was. I am scared for him Sveta," Toli admitted.

Sveta called Callen's social worker and informed her of what had happened. She agreed it was of concern and would come over and see them. Sveta knew she would have to let Callen know soon.

* * *

They sat and ate dinner that evening and Callen instantly picked up on the looks that Sveta and Toli were giving each other.

Shifting uncomfortably Callen stopped looking at them. He wasn't sure what he had done, but they looked at him like they were scared or sad. Did this mean he was moving again?

He pushed the food around on the plate; his appetite was gone.

"Mama, have I done something wrong?" Callen asked as she cleared the table.

Sveta looked at him and shook her head, "No, you have done nothing wrong, but you do need to do your homework. You do not need to get up early tomorrow, you have the day off from school."

"Am I sick?" he asked suddenly afraid.

Sveta smiled. "No, moy syn, you are not sick. Papa and I have a problem that we are dealing with, that is all. You go and do your homework in your room," she said and kissed his head.

Slowly, Callen walked down the hall to his room. Something was wrong. They had promised not to move him, but he had to have the day off? He wasn't sick, so what was it? Was mama or papa sick?

His thoughts were in such turmoil that he didn't sleep at all that night.

* * *

Aileen was on the doorstep before 9:00 am and when Sveta let her in, a small woman accompanied her.

"Svetlana Rostov, this is Sylvia Grey. I called her about your problem, she is here to help."

Sveta nodded as the woman looked kindly at her, "I hope you can help me. Toli has gone into work so no one gets suspicious."

"And the children?" Sylvia asked.

"Alaina has been sent to my sister's and Callen is still asleep," Sveta replied.

Rubbing his eyes and his hair going in all the wrong directions, Callen emerged bleary eyed from his room and stumbled to the bathroom to clean his teeth.

" _Utro mama,_ " He called sleepily down the hall.

Sylvia smiled as she saw him.

" _Dobroye utro moy syn, u nas gostipodgotovit' sebya i speshit zdes'."_ Sveta called.

"Da, Mama," he replied not really listening.

A few seconds later, there was a smash as he dropped a glass in the sink. He ran quickly from the bathroom to his room, and within a minute he was wide-awake and standing in the living room.

" _Mama, kto eto dama i pochemu moy sotsial'nyy rabotnik zdes'? Budut li oniuvesti menya?"_  he asked, his voice scared.

Sylvia turned to Callen and extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Sylvia Grey and I work for the Government. There is some concern for your safety and I will be working with Aileen to make sure you are safe while we get more information." She patted the chair next to him, "Please, sit."

Sveta looked at the small woman who looked at Callen like she was searching for something.

Callen spotted it too and sat closer to Sveta. Sveta got up and busied herself making Callen's breakfast. Knowing how important his mother viewed this particular meal, there was no way he wasn't eating. He cocked a smirk as he noticed that she was cooking for this Sylvia woman and Aileen as well.

"Eat," she said placing plates in front of them.

"Yum, Bliny my favorite, Spasiba." Sylvia smiled and tucked into her food.

Callen, watching her cautiously, ate as well. Drinking his milk, he finished up his meal, took his plates to the sink and washed them up.

* * *

He grabbed his book and curled up in his favorite chair by the window. He pretended to be absorbed in the words of the book but was fully aware of the happenings and conversations going on in the room.

Sylvia noticed and gave him a small smile and turned her attention back to the other two women.

"So, Mrs. Rostov, what did your husband tell you?" Sylvia asked Sveta.

"Toli was talking to our neighbor Alec who works with him. He was telling about how our son had improved in all of his grades since being told he was staying with us. He is so proud of him. When Alec said his name, a man came over and started asking questions about Callen. He wanted to know how old he was, where he was from, did Toli know if he had any family. Toli brushed him off but felt he was being watched even when he got home. Our backyard is sealed from the front so I have allowed him out there, but not the front, I do not think it is safe, " Sveta said concerned.

"I agree we need to find out who this man is. Did your husband tell you this man's name?"

"Luka Comescu. He is on the Board of Directors for the company my husband works for. Mr. Comescu has been working abroad; he came back last month with his sister Alexa."

There was a knock at the door and Callen got up to answer it. "No, I will get I, Sylvia said. With her hand on her hip, Callen noticed she was carrying a gun.

He was worried as she moved to the door.

"Hello?" she said as she opened it.

"Mrs. Rostov?"

"Can I help you?" Sylvia asked, neither confirming nor denying who she was.

"I have a message. There was an accident at the docks. Toli Rostov has been injured and he is in the hospital.

"Thank you for the information." She closed the door and watched through the window as the man made his way back to his car.

Sveta sat at the table, hands covering her mouth, eyes wide and tears streaming down her face.

"Mama?" Callen walked over and put his arms around her for support, " _We_  will go to the hospital," he said.

"You can't, you must stay here," Sylvia said.

"Listen lady, I know you're a cop, so you can protect us from whatever it is you think we need protecting from, but I am going to the hospital with my mother to make sure my father is okay. Come with us or get out of the way." Callen stood resolute and Sylvia smiled.

"I will accompany you Mr. Callen."

* * *

Translations.

1\. papa are you sick?

2\. Morning Mama

3\. Morning my son, we have guests prepare yourself and hurry here.

4\. Mama, who is that lady and why is my social worker here? Will they take me away?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry meant to post yesterday, got caught up with RL issues, (no way I'm turning down my Marine and Junior for family time when they ask.)


	6. Chapter 6

Pulling up to the hospital, Sylvia got out of the car first. She looked around and then opened the door for Svetlana, who took Alaina out of her car seat, as Callen climbed out and leaned against the car.

"Can we go in now?" Callen asked annoyed at the amount of waiting around they were doing. His father was in the hospital and he didn't know how bad he had been hurt and it was killing him.

"Soon, Mr. Callen. I just need to find out where he is. You will you wait here with Alaina and Svetlana while I go find his doctor," Sylvia said.

He didn't want to but he nodded in agreement. Taking Alaina over to the children's play area, he sat where he could see her and watch over his mother and the strange little woman.

He noticed a man who seemed out of place even for a hospital. He was too focused and too watchful for someone waiting to be seen or visiting someone. Callen moved himself between the man and his little sister and watched cautiously as he scanned the area. His eyes locked with Callen's for a microsecond before he stood up and walked out.

Svetlana walked in, her eyes were red and Sylvia patted her arm, "Mama?" Callen called.

She sat down in the chair and Sylvia went over to him, "Mr. Callen, Svetlana would like a word with you."

He scanned the room again and finding no sign of the man he got up and walked over to his mother. He sat beside her and held her hand. "Mama?" he asked again his voice wavering.

" _Vash otets byl ranen na rabote, nekotoryye muzhchiny prishli, i oni sil'no izbili yego. On zhiv, no on v kriticheskiy sostoyanii,"_  she said, tears starting to fall.

" _No mama zachem komu-to povredit papa?"_  Callen asked. Toli was, in his eyes, a perfect person who had not a mean bone in his body.

"I do not know son," Sveta said and hugged her boy, knowing that she had for the first time since she knew him, lied to him.

"Can we see him?" Callen asked.

"Soon, I would like to see him first; would you stay with your sister?" Sveta asked.

Callen bit his lip. More than anything he wanted to demand to see him, to know he was all right, but he knew that what his mother was asking was fair. So he nodded and sat with Alaina as she continued to play with the toys.

* * *

Sveta walked into the room where Toli lay. She held Sylvia's arm with a vice-like grip.

"Will he be alright?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He will. The doctor says he may have trouble walking, as his legs will be unsteady. He cannot go back to his job," Sylvia stated firmly. She had talked to the doctor while Sveta had talked to Callen.

"Why, all of this because of the boy? I do not understand."

"I cannot tell you what it is about, he does not even know," Sylvia replied.

Callen leaned against the wall the other side of the door, confused by what he had just heard; blindly he walked off to sit with his sister again.

Toli stirred as the medicine wore off and he started to wake up.

A tall man walked to the door of the room barely glancing at the children as he walked by them. He motioned to Sylvia as he leaned against the doorframe.

She walked over to a corner of the room with him. "Did you get them?" she inquired.

"The boss has three new identities waiting for them; they can all be relocated as soon as the father is fit to travel," Owen said as he looked his partner in the eyes.

"Three?" Sylvia reiterated.

"The mother, the girl and the husband," Granger said flatly.

"Owen, I said all four of them were to go." Sylvia was not impressed with her boss' lack of listening skills.

"Henrietta, if you send him with them, wherever they go they will be in danger, you know this," Owen stated harshly.

Callen listened intently. He couldn't believe it, it was  _his_  fault. Toli had been hurt because of  _him!_ He turned to look at Alaina whom he loved her with all his heart, as she filled a place he hadn't realized was empty. He couldn't allow her to be hurt.

He gave Alaina a candy bar and sent her off to her mother. He told her that he had to go to the washroom and watched sadly as she skipped off towards the lady who had just crushed his whole world. He shot her a smile and pointed towards the restrooms and she nodded in understanding.

* * *

He walked in and shut the door. He vomited harshly into the toilet, sobbing as he did so. It had been so close, they had been perfect and he had hurt them. Just by having that name -  _that letter_  - just by being him. He loved them with all his heart and he knew exactly what he had to do.

He climbed out the window, shimmied along the low wall and dropped onto the flat roof below; he made it to the ground floor without any injuries. Within minutes he was sitting on a bus headed back to his house.

Using the key he had been given it didn't take long for him to gather up his belongings. He didn't take all of the things that had been bought for him; just what was his from before and what he absolutely needed.

He took the coat, his bag and bedroll. He looked at the picture he had framed of him Alaina and wanted more than anything to take it, but if whomever had hurt Toli found him and the picture she could be in danger. He folded up his clothes, stripped his bed and put the bedclothes in the laundry hamper. Mama had enough to do and he didn't want to add to her burden.

He went into the kitchen, grabbed some food and left the picture and most of the new clothes folded on the table.

He picked up a pen and wrote the worst note of his young life.

_I am sorry I hurt Toli. I am a bad child, Bayliss was right. I didn't mean to hurt any of you, but I have come to a decision. I don't want to live with you anymore._

He stopped and wiped his eyes _._

_You don't need me and I don't need you. I don't need a whiny sister and I certainly don't need parents._

_Tell Aileen I'll call her._

_G. Callen_

He then cried for all he was losing. He hated lying to them after all they had done and in truth he loved them dearly, for this would always be his home. He wiped his eyes again, picked up his bag and then placed his house key on the table.

" _Do svidan'ya mama i papa, i moya malen'kaya sestra, ya vas vsekh lyublyu,"_  he said, and with that he turned and left.

* * *

Translations.

Your father was injured at work, some men they came and they beat him badly he is alive but he is in a critical state.

But mom why would someone hurt dad?

Goodbye mom and dad and my little sister, I love you all.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sveta felt that something was off. Alaina was playing by her feet but Callen hadn't come back from the restroom yet. She looked over to see Sylvia talking to the man who had just arrived and walked over to them.

"We just can't do it Hetty, this all started because of him. We move them as a family of three and that is that," Owen stated, standing his ground.

"Sir, I don't know who you are, but we are a family of four, my husband, myself and our  _two_ children," Sveta said standing  _her_ ground.

"Mrs. Rostov, you need to understand, it would be safer for your family if you were separated from the boy. It is for your own safety," he reiterated.

"And who will look after Callen's safety?" She asked.

"We will put him back into the system, but your family will be safe," Owen insisted.

"He  _is_ my family!" Sveta all but shouted at the man. She stopped as Alaina came over to her.

" _Mama… Gde moya bol'shoy brat?"_  she asked.

"That is a good question," Hetty said. "Owen can you see if Mr. Callen is in the restroom please?"

He walked into the restroom and noticed the window was open, but there was no sign of Callen. He walked back out to the two women, "He's not there."

"We need to look for him Owen. Stay here and guard Toli. I don't know why but I don't think he's been taken," Hetty said.

"We should try my home, he may have gone there," Sveta suggested.

Hetty agreed with her and the two of them set off in the car, leaving Owen guarding Alaina and Toli.

* * *

Callen had been walking for what felt like hours. His bag was heavy, his arms ached, and he was bone weary tired. He had run until he had stopped sobbing, ignoring the looks of concerned strangers as he had run by them. He found himself on the edge of the Los Angeles National Forest. Had he gone to familiar ground, like the beach, Aileen would find him and before he knew it he would be placed with the Rostov's again. He loved them dearly and didn't want to be the cause of anyone dying. The fact that he wasn't even sure if Papa….No! Toli Rostov, was dead, hurt too much.

Hitching the bag over his shoulder he walked resolutely into the forest. He was cold, and as the trees closed in around him he shivered. All at once there was a huge rumble of thunder and the heavens opened. Callen sank to his knees sobbing, his arms wrapped around himself for comfort. "Why?" he screamed in disbelief at the sky. If there was a God up there, Callen wondered what he had done to so monumentally piss him off.

He grabbed the blanket from his bed roll and threw it over his head, wishing he had grabbed the coat that his Ma….Sveta, had bought him.

Soaked through and shivering, he walked further and further into the forest, laughing as he thought of how little people would care if a wolf or bear ate him.

_And if he was eaten?_

At least his life would have had a purpose, even if it were only to be food for another animal.

Just as he thought he could not go on any further, the lightning flashed again and he saw a small hunting cabin. It was rotten and leaking, and abandoned, but to Callen, it was a palace.

He kicked the door and the rotting wood gave way easily. Exhausted, he crawled on his hands and knees to the far corner of the cabin, the driest spot, and shivering, fell asleep.

* * *

Hetty and Sveta arrived at the house and opened the door.

"Callen?" Sveta called. There was no answer and they walked into the house and Sveta went straight to Callen's room. Quickly taking in the scene she knew he was gone. She sat on the bare bed and picked up a shirt Callen had forgotten in his haste to leave and hugged it to her body sobbing at the loss of her son.

Hetty, meanwhile, had gone into the kitchen and saw the note.

"Oh, Mr. Callen, what have you done?" She sighed after reading what he had written.

She picked the note up and took it to Svetlana.

Sveta took the note and read it carefully. " _O, moy bednogo syna, kak mnogo ty ranen_." She cried. "Sylvia, we must find him."

Hetty sighed. This was the hardest thing she had had to do in years, "We can't. We will have to trust that Mr. Callen's survival skills will be looking after him. Right now our priority is to move you and your family."

"If we go he will not be able to …" Sveta stopped as the living room of the house exploded in gunfire. In the bedroom Hetty and Sveta hit the deck.

"Keep down!" Hetty said as she drew her gun. Moving quietly to the door of the room, she opened it and made her way to the living room where there was glass everywhere, bullet holes and a small fire. The screeching sound of tires assured her that the men with the guns had just driven off.

After a few moments, Sveta followed Hetty and stood staring at the remains of her living room, "Oh my! What if Toli, Alaina or Callen had been here?"

"They would have been killed. This is why you need to move… _now_." Sylvia insisted.

Sveta nodded, "I will pack a few things for each of us. But Sylvia, promise me, after you move us, you will look for him and  _when_ you find him you will bring him to us. I do not believe what he wrote in the note. You tell him we know he was happy and we realize he is trying to help but you tell him we love him. He is family and he needs to be with us. We need to be with him."

Hetty nodded. She knew that one day she would find him and tell him.

"Here," Sveta picked up a photo from her bed stand and handed it to Hetty, "You tell him, he is loved and his mama and papa want him to come home."

Hetty looked at the photograph of Callen sitting in a chair holding Alaina, who you could tell was laughing, up in the air as he looked at her lovingly.

"That is my son," Sveta insisted.

Sylvia and Sveta headed back to the hospital. Sveta sat in the back of the car, a heavy heart, tears silently falling as she clung to the two bags with the few meager belongings the family had left. She was dreading the fact that she would have to tell her husband and daughter that Callen was gone.

* * *

Callen woke up; he felt like he was on fire and his skin was burning. Drinking some water, he rubbed at his scratchy throat and ate some of the bread that had been packed earlier.

He was sweating and felt really hot, taking off the blanket and the jumper he was wearing, they were discarded on a pile in the corner, a pile which rapidly got larger. Finally after a while the blanket was pulled from the pile and he lay it down on the floor, it was still damp, but it was softer than the bare floorboards. His head was swimming he was shaking and hot. In an attempt to cool down the rest of his clothes joined the pile in the corner until he was left wearing nothing but his boxers. Exhausted he lay on the blanket and fell into a fit full sleep unable to stop the tremors that racked his body as he slept.

* * *

Speeding through the forest on her quad bike, Mickey Halloran, Forest Ranger, was invigorated with nature in its rawest form and was quite certain she had one of the best jobs in the world. With the forest as her office, it was perfect for someone who wasn't a people person. The few cabins in her area needed checking daily to make sure there weren't any unauthorized inhabitants, such as teenagers looking for a place to deal drugs or have sex. Clearing them out was usually a quick task, and that suited her just fine as she found humans more challenging to deal with than animals in their natural habitat.

Coming up on the Malloy Cabin she felt in her pocket for the keys she had there. It was getting late and she knew the Malloy's wouldn't be back until mid-summer next year. She had planned on sleeping in the cabin and then continuing her rounds in the morning.

She pulled up sharply as she saw the door was already open.

Climbing swiftly off the bike she pulled her rifle from the back and cocked it as she walked into the cabin, "Forestry Service," she announced, "I'm armed…." She stopped when she saw a teenage boy naked, save for a pair of boxers, lying in the corner of the room. "Oh my God!" she said and then checked his pulse.

It was thready and the boy was very cold to the touch of her warm hand. She grabbed the emergency kit and radio from the back of the quad bike and wrapped him in a thermal blanket.

"No…." Callen groaned feebly as he tried to wrench the blanket off his body, "too hot….please…. _pozhaluysta, prekratite, …slishkom zharko"_

Mickey grabbed the radio and called for help as she stroked the strange boy's head.  _"Who are you?"_  she asked herself as she listened to the croaky voice of the boy babbling in two different languages,  _"And where are you from?"_

* * *

Translations.

Mama where is my big brother

Oh my poor boy how you must hurt

Please, stop…too hot.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Mickey walked the hall outside the strange boy's room. She didn't know his name and was certain something bad had happened to him. Every time he woke, he screamed and tried to escape. He was still delirious and would call out in two languages, which wasn't unusual given many children in California spoke two languages. When he called for his mama everyone who heard could only feel empathy for the boy.

She turned around as the doctor walked out of the room, "Mickey, I think he's waking up," the doctor announced. "Have you called the Sheriff yet?"

Mickey nodded, "Yeah Andy, Ed's stuck out helping with a pile up on the PCH right now, and he said when he's finished he'll get down here."

Andy nodded, "Where did you find him?" he asked.

"Just off the Santa Clara Truck trail, in the Mallory Cabin; I think he kicked the door in to escape the bad weather," she said.  
 _ **  
**_

"Um…He's not from around here. Did you hear that gibberish he was yelling?" Andy asked, looking at his friend.

"I think it was Russian or Eastern European. Do you think he's an illegal?" Mickey wondered.

"On his own? Na, he's a kid, he has to have family somewhere. Maybe he's a runaway. Whatever the situation, I am concerned about him. It looks like he got beaten up a few hours ago. We aren't that far from the freeway, he could have come from anywhere," Andy hypothesized.

Mickey and Andy walked back into the room where Callen was starting to wake up.

" _Nyet, pozhaluystaya dolzhen derzhat' ikh seyfom!"_  He mumbled as he tried to pull the blankets off.

"Hey, kid its ok," Andy said trying to stop him from ripping out the IV they had put in his arm to get fluids into him.

At his touch, Callen flinched and moved away. "No…please…I have to go!"

* * *

"Jeez, Mickey; He's American!" Andy exclaimed. He walked over to the kid and sat on a chair next to the bed. "Hey kid, you're in Santa Clarita Medical Center. You want to tell me your name?"

Callen moved as far away from the man as possible.

"Listen, we heard you calling for your mom earlier, you want to tell me her name? We can call her for you," he offered nicely.

Callen turned his head away, not talking, a single tear working its way out from his treacherous eyelids.

" _Nyet!"_  He replied and turned his back on them.

He knew from experience if he ignored them long enough they would get bored and leave him alone. If he told them who he was  _now_  they would send him back and the Rostov's would be in danger again. He grabbed his ribs as a wet hacking cough escaped him. Running into that gang as he hitchhiked out here had been a bad move. Not having any money had turned out to be a worse move and his ribs still ached from the kicking he had received. He had had worse over the years and had curled into a ball and tucked his bag underneath him staying still until the kids had given up and moved on. Then landing in that rainstorm, he had decided that God hated him.

That had to be it. Here he was yet again with people surrounding him, pretending that they cared and soon they would ship him off somewhere else.

He was tired of it. Tired of trying to fit in, tired of letting other people in. He was just  _tired._

* * *

He put up all of his defenses, and didn't care who was watching as he carefully climbed off the bed dragging a blanket and the IV pole into the corner where he could see the door and no one could come up behind him. Once in position, he sank to the floor.

Andy pulled Mickey outside as she tried to go over to help him.

"Don't!" He said.

"Why not? The poor boy needs help," she said, wanting to comfort him.

"Mick, all those stray, wounded animals you help, when they are in a cage, do you hug them?" Andy asked.

"Of course not, they are feral, they can't tolerate human contact," she replied.

"Think of that kid as feral. He wants the help, but I think he's too scared right now, we have to be careful and get him to trust us," Andy said.

Mickey nodded sadly understanding, "What can I do to help?" she asked.

"He needs to eat; maybe you could take some food into him, something light like soup and crackers. Just put the food near him and sit in the corner, listen to him, maybe he'll talk…like you do with the strays."

"They don't talk Andy," Mickey said flatly. "It's not the same."

"Sure it is, after a while an animal will tell you what it needs. You just have to be observant."

Mickey nodded and went to get him some food.

* * *

Svetlana sat by her husband as he looked at the documents that Owen Granger had handed to them, "We are to go  _where?"_  she asked.

"Two US Marshalls in charge of Witness Protection are picking you up. I believe you are going to St. Petersburg, Florida. The same Federal Marshalls have taken what they could from your house and packed it up for you. You will be the Kolcheck's: Anna, for you Svetlana, Alina, for Alaina…easier for her to remember and Toli, we decided to keep with the 'A' names so you will be Arkady. You will always have access to the Witness Protection Program but once on your own, you will be expected to make new lives with your new identities, " Granger announced. "Only the two US Marshalls I have assigned to your family, and me, will know your new identities and location.

"When you find Callen, will you send him on to us?" The new Anna Kolcheck asked.

"I will do my best," Granger replied.

A Federal Marshal stood at the door and looked at the sad family of three, "Ma'am, we are ready to go? Does your husband need assistance?"

"I need one of those wheelchairs," Arkady replied. After Anna positioned one in front of him, he maneuvered himself into the chair and holding the hand of his beloved daughter, they left the hospital.

"But mama, G will be coming won't he?" Alina asked.

Anna lifted her daughter into her arms and kissed her head, "If he can find a way he will join us. I know in my heart of hearts you will see your big brother again," she said as the child rested her head on her mother's shoulder and held her tight.

* * *

Hetty stood at the door with Granger and watched the family leave, "Did you give them their new identities?" she asked.

"I did, they have their new names and all the information they will need to start their new lives", he replied.

"Can I ask what their new names are?" Hetty asked hoping she would be able to place Callen with them if they ever found him.

Granger looked at her, "Hetty you know I can't tell you their new identities," he barked.

"I know, I was just hoping…" She started.

"There is no way I am going to place Callen back with them. He shouldn't have been put with a family like that in the first place," Granger snapped.

"He needed them, he needed love," Hetty argued.

"He needs to be safe and he can't be that if he's left with a family like the Rostov's," Granger said, then turned and walked away.

"Oh Owen, you don't know what that child needs."

"He needs to live Hetty, more than anything, he needs to live." Granger walked out to the parking lot and drove off leaving Hetty standing at the door to the hospital.

Two nurses walked by as Hetty turned to go. "Really? Poor kid."

"Yeah my boyfriend is a doctor at the Santa Clarita Medical Center, he said they found this kid. He's feral, scared to death and speaking Russian."

Hetty turned to listen. "He kept calling for his mama in his sleep and someone called Alaina."

Hetty grabbed the nurse by the arm.

"Hey!" she said and pulled away from the strange small woman.

"I'm sorry dear, but I think you may have found my ward."

"You know who he is?" the nurse inquired astounded, "Please, can you come with me? I need you to talk to my boyfriend, Dr. Andy Martin; he's the doctor who treated him."

Hetty nodded and eagerly followed the young nurse.

* * *

Mickey walked in with the soup and crackers and placed the tray a foot from where Callen was curled in a ball dozing.

He jumped at the movement and watched as she got up and moved away from the food.

He could smell the soup and his stomach rumbled.

"It's ok kid, you can have it; we aren't going to hurt you," she said softly. She backed off to the chair in the opposite corner of the room and watched him.

His eyes darting back and forth, Callen surveyed the room for escape routes and estimated any possible dangers.

He grabbed the bowl of soup and wolfed it down. A few seconds later, he found himself vomiting in a nearby trashcan. When he finished he sent piercing glares to the woman in the corner.

"I don't think your stomach can handle you eating so fast. When was the last time you ate anyway?" she asked.

Callen shrugged and eyed the bowl evilly.

"Try a cracker, just slowly," she said.

He took one, nibbled the corner and waited. She passed him a bottle of water; he opened it and took a small sip - not once taking his eyes off her.

"You want to tell me your name?" she asked.

Callen shook his head.

"You have to have a name, let's start with your first name…Er; you don't look like an Adam…maybe a Ben? Nope, not that; er, Chris…nope not a Chris, what about a Dick?"

Callen raised an eyebrow and gave a small snigger at that one.

Mickey grinned, "You have a nice smile, Blue Eyes."

Callen ducked his head shyly.

"Ok, so you tell me when I get to the first letter of your first name," she said and started going through the alphabet, " _A,B,C,D,E,F,G…."_

Callen's head shot up.

So your name starts with  _G_?" Mickey laughed, "See we are having a conversation already."

Callen sighed and leaned against the wall watching this crazy woman try to figure out the one thing he genuinely didn't know the answer to -  _his name._


	9. Chapter 9

Hetty couldn't believe it when she heard that they had found a boy - it had to be him! There was no way it couldn't be as the description was too accurate.

Talking to the doctor on the phone, she was convinced it was Callen. She called Aileen and together they headed to Santa Clarita.

Aileen had spent the last few days trying to place Callen again so he would have a place for  _when_  they found him. Word about Callen had spread like wildfire through the foster care support network. None of the foster families on her files wanted to take him in after what had happened to the Rostov's. Her only option was the less than desirable placements or group homes, neither of which she felt was best for the boy.

Pulling up outside the medical center Aileen looked over at Hetty. She had been confused about the name change. Having been told that she was there to help get the Rostov's into witness protection and that she was with the government, she decided any more questions were a moot point.

"I am sorry that Callen couldn't go with them, they are a perfect fit for him. Are you sure there is no way you can swing it with your boss?" Aileen asked.

"It's not safe and I don't know where they are now. Callen is a ward of the state so we couldn't have moved him  _legally_ ," Hetty informed her.

Aileen closed the car door and walked around to where the smaller woman stood, "It is a pity, Callen was doing very well there. Rumors are flying around the foster care community now and no one is willing to take him on," she admitted.

"Well, let's hope that this is indeed our Mr. Callen," Hetty said as they headed towards the building.

* * *

Callen hadn't moved much in the few days he had been there. The staff had moved his bed over to the corner he was in, but he hadn't got on top of the bed as they had hoped. Instead he had made a camp underneath the bed. He had pulled in pillows, a blanket and his bag. Vitamins and antibiotics were still being pumped into him via intravenous drip. He had a small store of food under there as well, a few bottles of water, some soda cans as well as a few bags of chips from the lunches he'd been fed. Although his appetite wasn't back at full force, he didn't know when he would next get food so he stored in his bag what he could.

Mickey Halloran was as she had been for the past few days - still sitting in the corner watching him. "Come on kid, just a hint?" she asked as he stared at her.

"G. Callen, you in here?" Aileen's voice came down the corridor.

He couldn't believe it. He thought no one would bother looking for him, yet he could hear the familiar voice. Aileen, the one constant in his life for the last four years, was here, for  _him!_

Callen's eyes went wide as he scrambled to get out from under the bed, the IV detaching from his hand, the pole it was connected to, tipping over as he leaped towards Aileen. He winced and gripped his hand as the pain from the ripped IV shot up his arm. "Aileen, they're gone. It's all my fault, I hurt them!" he sobbed into his social worker's shoulder.

Aileen patted him gently on the back and helped him to sit on the bed.

"They're fine; they've been moved for their own safety."

"I'm never going to see them again, am I?" he asked, his voice hitching with a held in sob.

"No, I don't think so. Mr. Granger said that he was not allowed to tell where they had gone, but I'm sure you could give him a letter to give to them." Aileen said. She wasn't sure if this would be allowed, but she wanted to give the poor boy some semblance of hope.

Callen's face closed off, "They'll be better off forgetting I existed," he said flatly.

"I'm sure they'd appreciate knowing you are safe," Aileen said watching her young charge build his walls up again.

"I'll grab my stuff," Callen said not wanting to go there.

"You haven't been discharged yet, we need to see your doctor," Hetty said to them both.

"I'm fine, apart from that crazy lady wanting to know my name," Callen said.

"Why didn't you tell her Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked.

"How can I tell her something I don't know?" Callen replied as Mickey walked in.

"What don't you know honey?" she asked.

Callen moved back from her and closer to Aileen.

"Oh, are you his mother?" Mickey asked with a smile.

Aileen shook the young woman's proffered hand, "No, I'm his case worker. This is Hetty Lange," Aileen wasn't sure how to introduce her.

"Hetty Lange, CIA."

" _ **Wo**_ **w** _ **!**_ **"**  Mickey exclaimed.

"Are you a doctor, Miss?" Hetty asked.

"No I'm not. Mickey Halloran, Forestry Service. I found this young man in a cabin up near Pine Ridge. He was ill, and was in the early stages of hypothermia. I got him down here and Dr. Martin has been tending to him. I'm glad you found him, we don't even know his name."

"Callen," Aileen said.

Mickey raised an eyebrow, "First or last name?"

"Just Callen," Aileen replied and turned to her charge. "And you  _will_  stay here until the doctor deems you well enough to leave."

"Why?" Callen snapped, knowing full well he sounded sullen. He didn't wait for an answer, he grabbed the blanket and rolled over as carefully as he could and faced away from them.

Mickey looked shocked at the boy's response. Aileen just rolled her eyes, "Fine G, I'll go find your doctor."

* * *

Mickey followed Aileen as she walked out of the room, leaving Hetty to watch over the boy.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Mickey started.

"Aileen will do," she replied briskly.

"The boy, what's his story? I have never seen a child so skittish," she said concerned.

"His story is a long one Miss Halloran and he doesn't trust people very easily. He needs a  _family_ to stay with when he leaves the hospital, but we are having difficulty finding one that will take him," Aileen said. "Thank you for finding him. We were all worried when he went missing. Can you tell me about how he was found?"

Mickey reached into her bag, "Here's my report, and you'll need it for your records anyway. Where will he go when he's released?"

Aileen looked at this young woman and smiled, "We have a very temporary placement for him; A group home."

Andy Martin walked down the hall and saw Mickey talking to a strange woman and the conversation seemed to be getting a bit heated.

"Hi ladies, is everything all right?" He asked.

"Doctor  _Andy_  Martin?" Aileen inquired after seeing 'Dr. Martin" on his name tag."

"Yes," he answered.

"I'd like to talk to your about a patient of yours, Mr. G. Callen."

"Mr. Callen? We don't…."

"The boy Andy, his name is Callen," Mickey told him.

"Oh, you know him? Are you his mother?" Andy asked.

"No, I'm from Child Services," Aileen replied.

Andy nodded. The arrival of a worker from Child Services confirmed that for him the thoughts he had that the boy was from an unstable home. "While he was unconscious we took some x-rays which showed he has extensive bruising around his torso. We also see evidence of malnourishment and physical abuse going back several years. He also has a slight case of bronchitis, with a fluctuation temperature. He's been on an IV of antibiotics and vitamins since he arrived, but he should be ready to go home in two days.

Aileen nodded taking in all the information.

"I have to verify his living arrangements," she said pulling out her cell phone. Dr Martin nodded and waited while she made the call.

"Sir, it's Aileen, I found Callen." She waited as her boss replied on the other end.

"No he's not dead!" she said exasperatedly. "He is in the Santa Clarita Medical Center, with bronchitis and is pretty banged up, but he should be out of here in two days. Is there still a space for him in the group home?" She waited as listened to her boss' response. "Where is he going then?" She waited, listening carefully as she moved away from the doctor. "We can't put him  _there_! Do you remember what happened last time?" She listened and sighed; "But I thought he was arrested and charged….How?" she swore and closed the phone and let out the deep breath she had taken when she heard  _that_ name.

* * *

Callen looked at Hetty, "Why are you still here? You took my family away; I don't have anything left for you to take," he said sadly.

"I don't wish to take anything from you Mr. Callen; I do, however, hope you get better soon."

Callen looked disbelievingly at her.

Aileen walked in with Dr. Martin, "Good news Callen, the doctor says you'll be free to go in two days,"

Callen grabbed his ready packed bag from under his blanket and sat up, "Ready to go now Aileen, where am I going?"

"Right now young man, you are not going anywhere. You will stay here until Dr. Martin says you are fit to be released, as that is his call not yours," she said anticipating Callen's next sentence that had him sitting open-mouthed on the bed. The gaping mouth quickly turned into a scowling look as he grabbed the blanket and curled himself up into a ball.

Aileen sighed, "I'm sorry, there's only one placement free. Mr. Bayliss has a space."

Callen grabbed his bag and moved back from her, "No! No! You can't send me there!" His face was full of fear as he moved backwards, "You told me he would be locked up and that he would never have kids place with him again!" He couldn't stop the terrified tears that fell. "If I go back there, he'll kill me." The last sentence came out as a whisper as he physically shook.

"I'm sorry G, there was no evidence to back up your charges, his lawyer got him bail and until the case goes to court he has to be treated as innocent until proven guilty. There is such a shortage of spaces, his is the only one left," she explained wishing she had an alternative.

Dr. Martin walked over to Callen, "You're scaring my patient." He injected a sedative into the reinserted IV in Callen's hand and as he drifted off he heard Mickey's voice.

"How bad is this Bayliss guy? Mickey asked Aileen as she watched Callen's eyes finally close.

" _No Bayliss_ ," Callen murmured as he fell asleep.

"I have requested an official investigation of Bayliss but unfortunately he still the 'right' to be a Foster Parent until it is proven that he is unfit to care for children, there really isn't much else I can do. I'm sorry," Aileen said sadly to Mickey, knowing how scared Callen must be feeling. Right now she would have given anything to be able to scoop him up and take him home herself, rules and regulations be damned.

Mickey looked at the boy. She'd never been the maternal type and knew she couldn't do it long term. Callen was definitely terrified of this Bayliss guy and after he was out of the hospital, she would, in her own unique way, help him.

"Maybe, I could take him?" she offered quietly. "Just for a little while until you find somewhere else."

 


	10. Chapter 10

Aileen looked at Mickey as if she were a gift from God.

"You'd take him?  _Really_?" she asked amazed. "Why?" She didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth but with all the setbacks Callen had had over the years she knew better than to take anyone at face value, and besides she knew Callen himself would ask.

"Look, I'm with the Forestry Service and I've been passed as a foster parent, you can check my records. I fostered my little brother when my parents split, and Callen looks like he could use a break," Mickey said honestly.

Aileen called her office, and was pleasantly surprised that Mickey Halloran was indeed registered as a foster parent with Child Services in Santa Clarita. Aileen made arrangements to immediately have Callen placed into her care as soon as Dr. Martin signed Callen's release papers.

She walked back in with a smile on her face.

Callen was waking up and glared at Aileen as she walked in smiling.

"I'm not going, you can't make me," he stated.

Aileen smiled at him, "I'm not. We have somewhere else for you to go, just until you are 100% better."

"Fine, we leaving now?" Callen asked uncaring. As long as it wasn't Bayliss, he really didn't care what hole he was dropped in.

Aileen sighed, "Don't you even want to know where you're going?"

"Why bother? One 'rent' is as whacked out as another 'rent'."

"Rent?" Mickey asked confused.

"Callen's nickname for foster parents. They don't keep him, they rent him from the system, so to him they are all 'rents'," Aileen explained.

"And we are telling "Ranger Smith"  _why_?" Callen asked, being awake and on meds had brought out his snarky side.

"Because, Ranger  _Halloran_  has offered to foster you until you are well. The doctor said you should be able to leave in a few days and then you'll have to come back in another few weeks for a follow up appointment, so having you stay with Ms. Halloran is a plus as she lives nearby."

Callen looked at Aileen like she had lost her mind.

"You check her out?" He asked guardedly.

"No." she sighed, "You're so annoying, I'm just going to throw you to the wolves," Aileen said sarcastically. "Of course I checked her out."

"So what's wrong with her?" He asked with a sidelong glance at Mickey.

"Nothing!" Mickey said. She could see why Callen was pegged as a challenging child.

"So why d'you want me then? Don't you know how much of a danger I am?"

"Stubborn I am." Mickey grinned, "I don't know about you being a danger, but what I do see is a scared kid who needs someone to believe in him."

Callen looked stony faced. "Had that, don't need it anymore," he said and looked away as those annoying tears threatened to fall again. "And, I'm not scared!" he said under his breath.

"Ok, I'll take your word for it," Mickey said.

By the time Callen was ready to leave the hospital, he was a bit more receptive to staying with Mickey.

Hetty had bid her goodbyes to the stony faced teenager and had left the room as Mickey had come in. "Are you leaving?" Mickey asked with a smile.

"I am Ms. Halloran, my work here is over for now," she said.

"So you're not taking this one too?" Callen snapped at her.

Hetty turned and looked sadly at the teenager, a flash of something Callen couldn't quite place in her eyes.

"I did not  _take_  the Rostov's from you and I did not want you to be separated from them. All I have ever wanted for you was for you to be safe and happy," she said looking him in the eye.

"You've only known me two weeks, don't …" Callen started and Hetty waited.

"Don't what Mr. Callen?"

"Don't act like you know me. Don't act like you care about me, you don't and I can't let anyone care about me...not anymore," he said. "Just go, go back to your life and pretend you never met me, it's safer that way."

Hetty nodded and walked off thinking,  _"Is it safer for you or me?_ "

Callen looked at Mickey, "Doc letting me go today?" he asked.

"I just talked to Andy, I mean, Doctor Martin. He said when you're dressed you can get out of here but you have to come back in a week for a check-up of your lungs."

After getting dressed, Callen pulled his shoes out of his bag. He noticed a child's colored drawing fall to the floor and before Mickey could say anything he carefully folded it and put it back in the bag. She saw some writing in blue crayon, but it looked like scribble, so she didn't say anything.

"Ok, let's blow this joint," Callen said giving her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as Aileen walked in the room.

"We are ready to go Mr. Callen. You'll be riding with me and we'll be following Ms. Halloran to her home."

Callen followed them both to the car, climbed in and waited as Aileen sorted out the directions with Mickey.

He pressed the back of his head firmly into the headrest and holding the drawing that still remained in his bag, closed his eyes.

"Are you sure he's ok about coming with me?" Mickey asked, looking at Callen in the car.

Aileen smiled, "He's as good as he's going to get," she admitted. "Usually when he's placed in a home environment we know if he is going to stay after an hour or two. I will head to the coffee shop down the street from here. If you check on him after an hour and he's still with you, it's a good placement, otherwise, according to your directions he's going to have to run down this road, so I should see him go by."

"It sounds like you've done this a lot," Mickey stated.

Aileen nodded, "Sometimes he stays, sometimes he runs, sometimes they throw him out. His last placement was the best he's ever had. If you can't cope with him, don't worry, just give me a call," she said wanting to offer the younger woman an outif she needed it.

"How many homes has this happened to him in now, three maybe four?" Mickey asked.

"You'll be home number twenty-seven," Aileen admitted. "That's not counting the group homes and the times he's run away to live on the streets."

"Oh my gosh, the poor kid. How  _long_ has he been in foster care?"

"Our first records have him dumped on the doorstep of a group home when we think he was five. He didn't speak English and all we had was a piece of paper saying  _G. Callen_."

"So that's why he doesn't know his first name!" Mickey exclaimed.

Aileen nodded, "No one does."

Callen leaned over the front seat and hit the horn, "Come on!" he yelled impatiently. "Stop telling the woman my sad life story and let's get this over with!"

Both women smiled and headed to their respective cars.

On the drive to Mickey's Cabin, Aileen turned to Callen and asked, "Are you sure you're all right with this placement?" She needed more than anything for him to stay put for a while.

"It's better than the alternative," Callen sighed.

"I will see what I can find for you after this. You know this placement is only for the two weeks you're recuperating."

"I know, I know," Callen said resigned. "Aileen, do me a favor?" Callen asked.

"Sure, anything?" she replied.

"After this, no more families; I don't want to be part of a family again, group homes are fine," Callen said sadly watching the streets turn into forests as they drove on. "I can't do that again."

Aileen nodded and drove on with her charge.

Mickey's Cabin was made of wood and the area around it was secluded and beautiful and Callen paid as much attention to it, as if they had parked outside a rundown tenement block. Not looking, he grabbed his bag and stood at the door as Mickey opened it. She invited them in and walked to a door in the back of the living room, "This will be your room Callen," she said. It had a bed, a chest of drawers, a desk, a chair and a new light blue rug on the floor. Light blue bedding completed the décor.

He stood and looked around the room and noticed the new bedding, "You didn't need to buy new stuff for me, it's only gonna go to waste."

Mickey smiled, "I didn't have any bedding for this room so I figured that you might need some."

Callen shrugged, "Floor is good," he replied.

Aileen sighed; he wasn't giving her an inch.

"Come on Callen, put your stuff down and then we can go over the paper work," she said hoping this would move him.

Callen dropped his bag, walked out to the living room and sat on the lumpy couch.

After signing the forms, Aileen left him with a " _be good"_ glare.

Mickey shut the door, turned around and smiled at her new charge. "Ok, so I have steaks or chicken, which do you want to eat?"

"Whatever," Callen replied.

"I hope you'll be happy here Callen. If you need anything, let me know," Mickey said.

Callen stood, walked back to his room and slammed the door, "The only thing I need is Mama, Papa and Alaina," he sobbed to himself in the pillow. "You can't get me that." He continued to cry until he fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Although Mickey had tried everything for the first two days, Callen only came out of his room for food and resisted all attempts Mickey made to befriend him. Until one day when she walked in with a wicker basket.

Callen heard her come in and talk to someone. Eventually, his curiosity peaked and he opened his door a crack.

"I have a boy named Callen staying here right now. He's kind of like you, scared and alone. I know you won't hurt him and I know he won't hurt you, but right now you need to stay where you are little one."

He looked around for another kid. But he couldn't see anyone. He took two steps into the lounge and looked around.

"Mickey?" He said as he continued to look around. " _Who_  are you talking to?"

"Spencer. He lost his family and needs someone to take care of him for awhile."

"Fine, you don't have enough room for  _two_  kids, so I'll pack," Callen stated curtly.

"He can share your room with you, if you want; he just needs a blanket on the floor."

" _What_?" Callen knew it; she was just like the others - she didn't really care about him or any other kids.

"Come here," she said gently as she motioned to the basket. "Don't make any sudden moves," she whispered.

Callen instinctively tensed up as Mickey opened the basket.

"This is Spencer," she announced as the now opened basket exposed a four-week-old wolf puppy. The pup was tiny and his eyes had just opened. "I need to get him some food, would you like to hold him?" she asked.

Callen nodded as Mickey put the puppy in his lap. The pup took a few small steps and then fell over as Callen stroked him. After a few moments the pup relaxed in the boy's arms.

Walking to the kitchen Mickey heard Callen talking to the pup. "I'm all alone too Spencer, maybe we can help each other." He let out a small laugh as the pup licked him. " _I've_  got your back little guy."

* * *

Mickey smiled. Callen had spent more time out of his room with Spencer than he had since he'd arrived at Mickey's over a week ago. She had known when a tourist had brought in the puppy a few days ago that it would be a good idea to bring it home. A trapper had killed the mother and her other puppies. This one had been found trying to suckle off his mother's dead body. Mickey knew she would have to hand feed it and seeing how lonely it was had reminded her of her charge back at the cabin; maybe they would be good for each other.

Callen watched Mickey go and wondered about what would happen to the poor pup, although he didn't really care …  _or did he_? He found it comforting that the little pup had fallen asleep on him and trusted Callen not to hurt him. He worried that the pup would just let him down or worse he would let the pup down. Mickey walked back in and handed him a bottle.

"You want to feed the puppy?" Mickey asked.

Callen looked down at the small ball of fur, "How?"

She handed him a baby's bottle filled with a special type of milk. "Like this." She guided his hand with the bottle in to the pup's mouth. Callen, in all his fascination had forgotten that he hadn't initially wanted to interact with Mickey and without meaning to, let out a smile as the pup latched onto the bottle and started to drink.

"He's doing it!" Callen grinned.

Mickey nodded with a smile of satisfaction, "You may have just saved his life, as we haven't been able to get him to eat."

"Really?" Callen looked at her, "Why not?"

"His mother was killed by a trapper so he's had no one to care for him and he  _needs_  someone to look after him," she told him.

"Can't he look after himself?" Callen asked. "He's a wolf, he could get his own food."

"He's too little. Sometimes, no matter how old you are you just need someone to lend a hand to help you over a hurdle. Be it to help you eat so you can grow to a Brute, the name for an adult male wolf, or just to learn to trust again."

"Do you think he will learn to trust again?" Callen asked, referring to Spencer.

Mickey looked at the boy, who was totally focused on the needs of the wolf pup, "You know, I think he just might.

* * *

It had been just over a week after Aileen had left Callen with Mickey, when she pulled up outside the cabin quietly afraid of what she might find inside.

Mickey was cooking breakfast while Callen still slept, as he had been up late feeding Spencer, when she heard a knock at the door.

"Aileen, come in, have you eaten?" Mickey asked with a smile.

"No." She glanced around the quaint cabin for any sign of Callen. "How is he?" She asked, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. Mickey smiled and walked her over to his bedroom door.

"Look," she whispered.

Aileen opened the door a few inches. Callen was curled up on his bed with Spencer asleep on his chest. Aileen smiled as she backed off and closed the door.

"Coffee?" Mickey asked as she walked back into the kitchen to pour herself a cup.

Aileen nodded and sat at the table, "What happened? I expected a call days ago saying that you or he had had enough."

Mickey handed Aileen her coffee and sat down, "It was dicey for awhile, and the first morning after Callen arrived it was obvious he had a rough night. He came into the kitchen and wouldn't look at me or talk to me. His eyes were bloodshot, and I thought I had heard him crying in the night."

Aileen nodded sadly, as she knew Callen was more vulnerable than he would ever admit and for that, she worried about him. "So what changed?" she asked.

"A tourist brought in an abandoned wolf pupa few days ago and Callen has been helping me care for Spencer. I don't think Callen has realized that in helping Spencer, he's been helping himself as well."

* * *

There was a scratching noise coming from Callen's bedroom door quickly followed by a small yelp.

Callen's voice came through the wooden door, "Okay Spence, I'm coming!" The door opened and a sleepy eyed Callen walked straight past the two women and out the front door, a wide-awake pup trailing closely behind him.

He sat on the step rubbing his eyes as Spencer went and did his business. He watched intently as the pup ran around in circles and when Callen whistled as the pup started to head out of sight, Spencer stopped in his tracks.

"Wow, you've trained him well!" Aileen stated handing him a glass of juice as she sat beside him.

Callen shrugged, "He's a good wolf, just needed someone to help him get over the loss of his family.

"Will you be okay about letting him go next week?" Aileen asked.

Again, Callen shrugged, "Moving on will be good for him; new people and a fresh start. Maybe he'll find something better."

"And you?" she prodded.

"I'll never find better again, but something I can live with until I'm free of the system will have do."

"You never know Callen," Aileen said, "We may find you another family that …"

He cut her off, "No, I mean it Aileen, unless by some miracle, you find  _my_ family, I'm not interested in any more family placements. And let's face it, the Rostov's left without me after telling me I was their son and a brother to Alaina. They don't care if they ever see me again," he said bitterly. If he said that enough times he just might start to really believe it.

Aileen tried to reason with him. "You don't know that."

"No I don't. There's a lot about me I don't know, but you know what? I'm okay with that. I just want to get out of the system as soon as I am allowed and live my life …  _alone._ "

Aileen sighed, the hurt was still there but at least Callen seemed to have a grasp on what he wanted.

* * *

"You make that next appointment for me?" Callen asked changing the subject.

"Yeah, you go back this afternoon for a checkup and then another week with Mickey before your next placement.

Callen sighed as he picked up the pup and absentmindedly scratched Spencer behind the ears.

" _Where_? He firmly questioned.

"We have a place for you in  _Our Lady of the Angels Home_ in Los Angeles."

"Good." Callen got up and walked to his room with Spencer following closely behind him.

Aileen walked back into the kitchen and sat next to Mickey, "He seems to be okay, but I can see what you mean about him hurting. I wish he'd reconsider going to another foster home, but he's adamant about not doing it again."

"Mickey?" Callen walked out to the kitchen.

"What's up hun?" She asked.

"Can Spencer come with us? I don't want to leave him here."

"He can come but he'll have to stay in the car with me while you and Aileen go to your checkup." Callen nodded in agreement.

Turning, Callen went to his room and picked up the pup, "Come on Spence, you get to come and see some of  _my_ world." He clipped the collar onto the pup that Mickey had given him and put the leash in his pocket. Walking to the table he sat down and looked at Mickey, "Breakfast?" he asked with a small smirk.

Mickey grinned, "Bacon, eggs, sausage and pancakes  _again_?"

"Extra sausage,  _please_ ," Callen affirmed.

* * *

Putting the plate in front of him Callen waited until her back was turned and then fed the pup a bit of sausage.

Mickey anticipated this move as she had seen it many times before with children and their dogs, "He'll get sick if you feed him human food. For now he will only get his food from a bottle that I prepare for him, okay? Mickey's voice was firm, as she knew the repercussions it would have on Spencer to be fed human food, especially at four weeks of age.

Callen looked stricken, "I don't want to hurt him."

Mickey smiled, "Callen, it's okay. Sometimes when trying to do the right thing people make mistakes. Except for maybe spoiling him with all those long walks and ear scratches, you have taken very good care of him. But you have to remember that Spencer is not a pet, he's a wild animal."

"Like …" Callen stopped his fork midway to his mouth,

"Like?" Aileen asked looking at the confused look on her charge's face.

"Like, no matter what happens to me, I'm still me … I'm not a bad person?"

Aileen smiled, "No Callen you're not."

Callen put his fork down.

He had had a revelation and needed to make sure Aileen understood him. His features determined; he looked at Aileen to ensure he had her complete attention. "I'm not a bad person Aileen. I don't understand  _why_  I couldn't' go with the Rostov's. I really wanted to but I guess I'm just not meant to have a family. From now on, the  _only_  person in control of what happens to me is  _me_! I don't know if there is a God, or he hates me, but I am not going to let him  _or_ anyone else  _ **beat**_  me."

He got up to go put his sneakers on and Aileen smiled, "And he's back!" she said to Mickey who smiled as well.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Callen pulled up outside the cabin that had seen better days. He tried to get there at least twice a year, operations permitting. Finally having left the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) and having a two-week break before he joined the DEA (Drug Enforcement Administration), he had taken some time off to head up to Santa Clarita.

He stepped out of the car and walked up the three steps to the porch, taking note of second step that was unstable. Mickey was getting older, although she wouldn't admit it. He grabbed the key from over the mantel and opened the door.

"Mickey?" he called.

There was no answer, however there were photos of Mickey's little brother Callum and a few of Callen as a teenager scattered around the family room. A dog bed in the corner with a food and water bowl gave Callen cause to smile. She still had him.

He walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a coffee, dropping his bedroll off in the guest room as he passed by it. As he took a sip of coffee he heard the spluttering of an old Jeep rattling to a halt outside the cabin.

Callen opened the door and smiled as Mickey Halloran climbed out of the driver's side, "G!" she called with a smile on her face.

"Mickey!" Callen smiled and crouched down as a fully-grown Spencer jumped down from the open door and launched himself towards Callen, tail wagging and licking him as he stroked his head. "Spencer, down boy! Yeah I missed you too!" He grinned.

Mickey grabbed her groceries and Callen helped her take them inside. "So you still haven't rehabilitated him?" Callen asked nodding towards the wolf who had climbed into his basket, turned around three times and settled, watching the living room and the two humans within, with tired eyes.

"Hey, you win some, you lose some. How you been G?" Mickey asked giving him a hug.

"Good, got two weeks downtime so thought I'd come visit," Callen said.

Mickey looked at him and smiled, "Callen, you know you are always welcome here. I told you that the day you left with Aileen, but you only come now when you're between jobs. I thought you liked being with the CIA?" Mickey asked.

Callen looked concerned, "You haven't told anyone?" he asked, knowing his job had been confidential.

Mickey laughed, "I don't get visitors out here and apart from when you graduated college and you came up here for that weekend, no one in town ever sees you. I honestly think if I told them the scrawny, annoying kid that lived with me for two weeks eight years ago was a CIA agent, they'd reopen the medical center just to lock me up in it." Mickey laughed.

* * *

Callen helped put the groceries away and added to it, the box of food he had brought with him. She smiled when she noticed the small box of chocolates and bunch of flowers that accompanied him.

"Thank you Callen," Mickey said and smiled when she smelled them.

"I dropped some flowers off at Aileen's grave site on the way here," Callen said sadly as he sat at the table and passed her a coffee. "I couldn't make it to the funeral."

"I did. We kept in touch over the years. She became a good friend, and that was your doing Callen. If it hadn't been for you I would have never met her, or had such a good friend in my life," Mickey said with a smile.

"You did? I never knew that. She mentioned you a few times, when she  _tried_  to put me back in a foster home," he told her.

"But you went back?" Mickey prompted.

"Once or twice. Okay, another  _ten_  times," Callen admitted with a wry grin.

He leaned back and stroked Spencer on the head; "I had a dog for awhile," he admitted changing the subject, "and a wife," he added quietly.

"You were  _married_?" Mickey asked surprised.

Callen smiled, "Three months, undercover op. We had a dog, Buddy. He was a great dog." His mind wandered. "Just got divorced, she left me in a situation while she went home and had tea."

Mickey waited. She now knew Callen's real reason for coming to visit her. "I loved her. Well, I thought I did. I just couldn't work there anymore. They all knew that our marriage was real, including my wife. I was told it was just a cover. You can imagine my surprise when she told me it was real. You had taught me that family and marriage are important so I tried to make it work. I finally trusted someone but she ended up betraying that trust just like everyone else in my life had."

"Hey!" Mickey admonished.

Callen let out a small grin, "Present company excluded of course."

"So you left?" She asked.

Callen nodded, "I start at the DEA in two weeks. Already slated for a job in Saint Petersburg, Florida."

"And that I assume is all you're going to tell me?" Mickey smiled.

Callen nodded, "I just needed somewhere safe to rest before I go undercover again."

"You think you'll stay with the DEA?" Mickey asked hoping he'd finally settle down.

"Maybe, maybe not. You never know what's around the corner Mickey."

"You go rest Callen, I'll make us something to eat."

"Extra sausage?" Callen asked hopefully.

Mickey laughed and watched as the adult version of her favorite boarder walked off to the room he had occupied several years ago, Spencer following closely behind.

* * *

The two weeks Callen stayed with Mickey were rejuvenating; he walked in the forest with Spencer, making sure to steer clear of the touristy areas. He fixed up the cabin with the skills he had learnt from an NIS (Naval Investigative Services) Agent he'd worked with in Serbia who'd had a penchant for carpentry, and most importantly, he took time to get reacquainted with himself.

He spent the evenings talking with Mickey, telling her about the years since he had left her, his hopes, dreams and fears. He talked more about how he'd been betrayed by Tracey and one day had literally caught his colleagues laughing at the fact that he didn't know his marriage was real. How he'd been with the FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation) for only a short time before they started pushing him to talk to therapists about his childhood after his boss had found out about his past. It was only a matter of time before he was labeled as a  _lone wolf_. Both of them had looked at Spencer and laughed.

"I made it out of the system  _alive,_ went to University, worked hard and established a career as an undercover agent. A good one if I may say so. Then I was expected to relive it all for the sake of more responsibility. It wasn't worth it, so I left.

"Was there  _anyone_  you could trust?"

"There was one guy, Tobias Fornell. He was okay until  _he_  found out about my past. He wanted to "help me", kept inviting me to his home. His wife was weird. Mind you she was pregnant at the time. Heard she had a girl."

"So what happened?" Mickey asked.

"I didn't trust his wife … she was … I don't know,  _off_. I can't see them lasting and I don't want to get in the middle of that. I still talk to Tobias occasionally," he admitted.

"So then you joined the CIA and then the DEA. You ever thought of coming out here and working for the Forestry Service?"

Callen laughed, "Nope, too many letters to remember. Three is enough for me."

They sat on the porch talking into the night, until it became too cold for Mickey and she went inside for the night. It was at that moment Callen realized how much Mickey had aged since he last saw her. While Mickey needed the warmth of the cabin, Callen found snuggling up with Spencer on the large outdoor sofa was all he needed.

This place with Mickey was his bolt hole. His safety net, where he had come back again and again when the group homes had gotten too tough or he needed to make a big decision. It was the one place where he could completely let his guard down.

He knew that this new job would be tough. He had left his old rooming house and decided while working undercover he wouldn't bother looking for another place to live.

He packed up his meager belongings and with a big stroke to the ageing wolf and a bigger hug to Mickey, he set off for what would turn out to be the biggest test of his career so far.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Dragging his gear out of the back of his car, Callen looked around for his contact. He'd driven all night and was parked at LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) waiting for his contact.

Agent Trevor Nigel, DEA looked over the youngster that he had placed on his team. The kid didn't look anything special, although it had been said that he was ex-CIA and that he was perfect for this role. Well, he'd be the judge of that. The brass may see him as something special but he'd withhold judgment until he saw how good this kid really was.

Callen quickly scanned the crowd and instantly spotted the man he was looking for. Hoisting his bag on his shoulder he walked straight towards the man, "Agent Nigel." He stated and stood waiting.

Trevor was impressed and in his twenty years on the job that didn't happen often. He had been sitting in the coffee bar and thought he would watch the agent walk around for a bit until he called the office for a description, which usually happened. This kid, however, had picked him out and walked straight up to him.

" _How_?" He asked. He shook his head, "I mean, Agent Callen?"

Callen held out his hand, "Yeah."

Trevor shook it, "Trevor Nigel, your partner on this mission."

"Callen."

Trevor looked at him, "Look kid, I've heard about you, but at least we can be on a first name basis during this mission."

"Callen." He said again and walked into the coffee shop he was standing outside of. He ordered a coffee and walked back to a booth where he could see the whole shop and nothing was behind him. Trevor had to admit, it was a better vantage point.

"You got the airplane tickets?" Callen asked.

Trevor sighed; this kid wasn't giving an inch. "Yeah, we'll talk on the plane."

Callen nodded and sipped his coffee. "Would be better to talk here, more noise, less chance of being overheard," Callen offered.

Again Trevor was impressed. Reaching into his briefcase, past the file, thin as it was on Callen, which he made a mental note to read later, he brought out the file on their assignment.

"A Russian Mafia syndicate is smuggling drugs out of Florida and into Cuba to finance a deal to take over the running of a major oil pipeline. All signs point to this being the start up of a new drug route and we need to stop it. We have a man inside already named Mark Peters. He's under as Mikhail Romanov and he's in with the inner circle. He'll be bringing you in as a new protégé; you're going in as a street kid he found in Russia."

"Name?"

"My boss came up with Gregori Rostov."

Callen flinched, "No!"

Trevor looked at him strangely, "Callen, it's just a name; all your documents are in this name already."

Callen glowered at him, "Fine," he snapped.

Trevor watched as Callen listened to the rest of the parameters about the mission with what looked like hurt behind his eyes.

Callen looked up as their flight was called and grabbing the passport and ID that Trevor handed him, he stood up.

Trevor looked surprised as Callen's whole demeanor screamed Russian immigrant street kid.

"So are we to go on this airplane or not?" he asked with a thick Russian accent.

"Bloody hell!" Trevor cursed under his breath in surprise as he nodded and hurried to join his agent.

Trevor hung back and watched as Callen walked the terminal a different man from when he had entered it. He was wide eyed as if amazed by the opulence of the airport but guarded enough that he kept a hand on his bag and didn't bump into anyone.

When Trevor caught up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder Callen, no Rostov, jumped. "Cal … Gregori our flight is over here."

"Da." Callen followed the older man to the terminal.

" _Nadeyus', vam ponravitsya vash polet Mister Rostovskoy."_  The ticket attendant said as he looked at Callen's passport and his ticket.

Trevor tensed up. He hadn't even checked if the boy spoke Russian.

Callen smiled as he took his passport back, " _YA uveren, chto ya budu, ya s neterpeniyem zhdu poseshchenii vashego Floride,"_  he responded flawlessly.

Trevor breathed a sigh of relief.

As he took his seat next to Callen on the plane he leant over, "That was spoken like a native." He grinned, "You might be able to pull this off after all."

Callen leaned back in his chair and fastened his seat belt for takeoff.

* * *

Callen was feeling nervous as he arrived at the place where he and Trevor would meet Agent Peters. Something about this whole operation didn't sit right with him, but as far as he could figure it was just the use of the Rostov name. His boss must have just picked it from some random list. However, none of this showed in his demeanor as they walked to the motel room.

Peters knocked twice and walked into the room. "You Callen?" he asked without any preamble.

Callen just looked at him, smirked and walked to the kitchenette to pour himself a coffee.

"Hell Trev, he's just a kid," Peters moaned. It was true. Since arriving Callen had adjusted his appearance and looked about seventeen. But there was also a guarded air about him.

"He's an agent, a bloody good one if his file is authentic. He hasn't broke character since I gave him his new ID," Trevor told his old friend.

Callen finished his coffee and reached into his bag, sitting on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table he unwrapped the tootsie pop, put it in his mouth and sucked. Slowly looking around the room and mentally appraising agent Peters.

Peters groaned looking at the kid, there was no way he was a real agent, and he didn't look older than a teenager. In his opinion, his bosses might as well just shoot him! This was never going to work.

"Very well, we will see. I have a meeting with Arkady Kolcheck, he's the head of the local Russian Mafia around here, has his hands in everything. We will introduce you then," Peters said eyeing the kid.

Callen just smirked, sucking on his tootsie pop allowing himself a small moment of satisfaction at how much he was getting under the older agents skin.

" _uveren, shtraf,"_  Callen sighed unconcerned as he picked up his bag and walked to the door.

"You bringing that thing?" Peters asked.

Callen looked at him and for the first time broke cover, "You want a street kid, they go nowhere without everything they own."

"Sure they do, and you know this  _how_?" Peters asked sarcastically.

"I am a street kid, and I'm not leaving this behind. You want me; I'm in. I am good at what I do and I won't get made. You need to trust me. Your bosses do."

Peters huffed as he opened the door. "You let me down and I'll shoot you myself," He snarled.

" _Drochili!"_  Callen spat as he walked past him and Trevor laughed.

"What did he say?" Peters asked.

"He said  _sure_ ," Trevor replied with the made up answer as he watched his friend leave. This was going to be an interesting assignment.

* * *

Callen climbed out of the car and watched as a big black limousine pulled up in the parking space beside them. Quickly he lowered his eyes to the floor as the man, flanked by two goons, got out.

"Mr. Kolcheck, I have the kid you asked for. His name is Gregori Rostov. We found him on the streets of Karma, just outside of Moscow. He's young and untrained, but he's a good worker and my boss vouches for him."

Arkady flinched at the use of his old name, but he had to know someday he'd hear it again. It wasn't totally uncommon in Russia, but the name, Gregori … he still missed his boy. He looked over at the nervous looking kid in the corner and his heart jumped. Oh how he looked so much like his boy."

"How old is he?" Arkady asked.

"Seventeen."

"He has family in Russia?" Arkady asked again, his thick accent covering the space between the two men.

Peters looked at Callen; he wasn't sure how much the kid had been read in.

" _Yest' li u sem'ya v Matushke-Rossii?"_  Arkady asked the boy.

Callen didn't look up, "Niet."

Arkady looked again at the boy. He looked so much like him.

"Look at me boy," he said.

Callen flicked his eyes up for a third of a second and then down again.

My God! … it is  _him_! Arkady thought.  _"Poydem so mnoy mal'chik,"_  he said as Callen grabbed his bag.

"This one I will interview alone," Arkady told his men and Peters who shot a scared glance at Callen.  _Had he been made?_

Callen followed Arkady into the limo as he continued to maintain a firm grip on his bag and gun.

The door shut and Arkady looked at the boy. He was still as scared as he had been the first time he met him.

"You are not Gregori Rostov," Arkady told him.

_Crap!_  Callen thought.

He hadn't done anything wrong; he knew that. So how had this guy made him so fast? His Russian was flawless, nothing about his personality screamed fake, so how had _this guy_ made him so fast?

"I am not sir?" Callen tried desperately to outthink this man.

Arkady smiled and shook his head. "No you are not, but, I think, you nearly were. Do you remember that first morning you were at my home G. Callen? When you saved your little sister from me? I told you then I would never hurt you or lie to you."

Callen looked up again and looked hard at Arkady. "Papa?" he asked almost afraid to let his cover get blown. His heart pulled and he felt his throat constrict, there was no way it was true and the man they were trying to bring down was his 'foster' father.

Arkady, formerly known as Toli Rostov, nodded.

"Why did you leave? Why are you  _here?_

Arkady smiled, "Moy Syn, I am, how you say, under protection."

"So you're Mafia?" Callen snapped instantly regretting the accusation in his tone.

" _No!_  I am an equal opportunities businessman." Arkady smiled and despite himself, Callen smiled with him. "And you, a street kid I know you are, but  _seventeen?_  Why are  _you_ here?"

"DEA," Callen admitted, finding himself not able to lie to the man.

Arkady nodded, "And Romanov, he is DEA too?"

Callen didn't respond or acknowledge Arkadys' question verbally or physically. "What are you going to do?" Callen asked, his gut churning.

"I think we need to have a meeting; you, your people, and me," Arkady said.

* * *

Arkady stepped out of the car first and turned to his men, "You may leave, I have details I need to work out alone." He said to them.

The bodyguards nodded and followed the orders as Peters hissed in Callen's ear, "What's going on?"

Arkady looked at the two men as his bodyguards drove off.

"I take it you are DEA too?" Arkady asked with a straight face.

Peters pulled his gun and Callen stood between the two men.

"You a double agent kid?" Peters snarled.

Callen shook his head, "Papa!  _Really?_ "

Peters looked at the two of them. They didn't look alike but there was some resemblance there.

Slowly he lowered his gun, "Talk fast kid," he said to Callen.

"Arkady is, was, my foster father years ago," Callen said. "He will help us get the drug runners."

Peters took a step back, "Very well. We will go back to our base and talk Mr. Kolcheck."

Sitting in the back of the car Arkady looked at his son; he had grown into a fine young man.

A million questions shot through Callen's mind, although one thought kept nagging at him and it was the one that as soon they were alone, he intended to ask.

Trevor looked up as three men walked into the motel room.

" _What?"_  he asked.

"Arkady Kolcheck, meet Trevor Nigel, DEA."

"Peters why the hell did you bring him here?"

Peters grinned, "You aren't going to believe this. Kolcheck and the kid ... they know each other."

Trevor looked at the two of them.

"Papa, come with me," Callen said and gestured to a side room, "Guys, I need a minute." Callen hoped they would understand.

The other two DEA agents looked confused, but they nodded knowing if there were any problems they were armed and on the other side of the door.

Closing the door, Callen took a deep breath and looked at the man who, for all intents and purposes, was his father.

Arkady knew this was not going to be good and Callen moved to the corner sizing him up, much like he had when he was a child. All he wanted to do was gather his boy up in his arms, tell him he loved him and go back to that simpler time, when they had all been a family. But instead he held his ground and waited knowing his son needed some answers.

" _Ask me, moy syn."_ Arkady said.

" _Why_  did you, Mama and Alaina leave me?"

* * *

Translations

1\. I hope you enjoy your flight Mr. Rostov

2\. I'm sure that I shall, I look forward to visiting your Florida.

3\. Sure, Fine...

4\. (Bad word...)

5\. Do you have family in Mother Russia

6\. Come with me boy.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Arkady looked at Callen and sighed. Sitting on the bed he ran his hand over his face and looked into his eyes.

"I cannot tell you why you didn't come with us  _moy syn_. The man that put us in the program told us you were not able to come with us, and that it would be better…safer if you weren't with us."

Callen took a step back and sat heavily on the chair in the corner of the room, "I put you in  _danger_?"

Arkady could see the boy in the man standing before him. "We did not at any point want to leave you. Your mama and I fought to have you come with us, but we were not able."

"Where are mama and Alaina…?" Callen asked.

Arkady looked sad, "Svetlana isn't with me anymore. I still see Alaina on occasion. She is in college now and has grown into a beautiful woman. She still talks about you."

Callen looked at him, "Mama…is she…?"

Arkady looked at his son and realized his fear, "No. She didn't like the witness protection program; we fought  _a lot_. She is remarried and living somewhere in New York."

"I'm sorry," Callen said. He still was none the wiser but remembering the conversation he had overheard in the hospital years ago, he knew that he had had an impact on their lives. "You would still be with her if I hadn't come to live with you."

" _Vy ne vinovaty v tomchto sluchilos' mezhdu mnoy i tvoya mama. My byli gordy tem, chto vy schitali nas vashimi roditelyami. khotya my i ne , my ob vse yeshche lyublyu tebya, i ya gorzhus' tem, chelovek, kotorogo vy stala, kak tvoya mama budet, kogda ya govoryu yey."_ Arkady stood up and walked towards him.

Callen dropped his head, "I hated you for so long. I was angry. I thought I wasn't good enough for you. Why did you  _have_  to go?"

"Some bad men came to where I worked. They were interested in you,  _very_  interested in you. We had some people come and help. While I was in hospital they shot up the house. I did not know what their interest in you was son, all I know is I had to keep my family safe."

"So you took them away from me," Callen said sadly.

"We couldn't find you," Arkady said honestly.

Callen looked down ashamed and went red; he had run away and there was no denying it. "That's because I ran away."

* * *

He stood up. This wasn't getting the job done and he knew his partner was outside waiting. "Can you do this papa? Can you work  _with_  us?"

"Things have changed  _Moy syn_. I am not the easy-going man I once was. I now know the value of money and the potential value of information."

Callen took a step back to the door, "And the information you have on me…my real identity…is _that_ valuable to you?"

Arkady looked at Callen and saw immediately what he was alluding too. "You are my son, not by blood but by circumstance, and I will _always_  protect you, however, if I happen to pick up any information on my competitors during this little escapade, then I will consider that payment. You will tell your bosses that information is only for  _you_. I will not work for, or with, the DEA or any other agency."

Callen looked at Arkady and as he grinned, Callen was reminded of the man he had grown to care about during his brief time as a member of his family.

"Come, meet my partner and we will see what happens next," Callen said as he walked to the door.

* * *

Peters and Nigel looked up as Callen and Arkady came back into the room.

"Ok so you gonna fill us in?" Peters asked.

Callen gave a curt nod. "Arkady Kolcheck will work with us in getting information on this syndicate that will help stop them from financing this new route."

"What does he get out of it?" Trevor asked.

"Information Agent Nigel; also I will never turn my son down if he needs help."

"So you  _are_  his father?" Peters asked intrigued.

Arkady laughed, "I am not his biological father, but I am the only person he will allow to fill that role until the real man himself turns up."

"So, Agent 'Callen'," Peters started putting the emphasis on his surname, "I suppose we have to change the plan now."

Callen leaned back in the chair he'd crashed onto and had opened another Tootsie Pop that he twirled around in his mouth while thinking up Plan B.

"Yes we do," he replied.

Trevor Nigel looked at the younger agent, and if asked, he would have sworn he could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Are you going to share this plan with us?" He asked.

* * *

Callen stood up and threw the wrapper in the trash and looked out the window, "We are going to tell them the truth."

" _What?_ " All three men chorused. Then Arkady laughed. Not the laugh the other men had heard since he had arrived, but a huge deep belly laugh that Callen hadn't heard since he was a child.

At that he grinned.

"I take it that you are going to pull the same stunt you did at school."

Callen sucked and grinned "Yep."

Arkady walked over to the small kitchenette. "Coffee?" he asked. Nigel nodded.

"So, Callen, for the benefit of those of us who didn't know you when you were a child, would you care to explain?"

"We tell as much of the truth as we need to. I go in as Arkady's long lost son, he'll vouch for me, won't you papa?" Callen asked.

Arkady sighed, "Yes and when it all goes south I will take the heat?" he asked not sure of the colloquialism

Callen laughed at him, "I am sure you will find a way out of it."

"Ah, moy syn, the things we will do for family." Arkady sighed taking a sip of the coffee he'd just poured. "So, as my son, you will be joining the Malenkov family. Hopefully they will give you a good job. Sergei Malenkov owes me a favor, this I will collect as my wayward son, just over from his…  _shlyukha_ of a mother."

" _Papa_!" Callen replied shocked.

The other two agents looked at him confused.

"You are making my mother a  _prostitute_?" Callen asked.

"How else am I to explain my shame in not mentioning you to him before? You have tracked me down; I am meeting my obligation to you  _and_  finding you a job."

Callen shrugged, "Fair enough."

Peters looked at the two men. Callen had slipped back into speaking English with a Russian accent again - he was so good. Peters would have bet money on the fact that Callen hadn't even realized he was doing it.

It's a bet he would have won. Callen had fallen straight into the role that they had worked out. It fit him like a glove, and there was enough of his past that they knew they could fit into his back-story that it would pass the kind of scrutiny that the Malenkov family could bring to bear.

"So," Trevor stood up and looked at the two of them, "we will get started tomorrow. You will arrange a meet with Malenkov and Peters and I will be your new bodyguards."

"In that case you should all get changed, I need to eat and it is time Arkady took his son out to dinner and caught up on the life I have missed out on."

Arkady smiled and took the Tootsie pop out of Callen's mouth and tossed it in the trash.

" _Dad_!" Callen protested.

In that moment, Agent Nigel could see this plan working. That wasn't an undercover agent pretending to be somebody's son that was the genuine action of a son to a father.

"You will eat healthy food again, moy syn. No more of this 'junky' food."

Callen rolled his eyes. "Yes sir." He sulked and crossed his arms.

Arkady looked at the boy, yes…still his son. "You shower and we will buy you a suit, you are moy syn and you will look the part," he ordered.

Callen sighed and much to the amusement of the other two agents skulked off to the bathroom to shower.

Nigel and Peters looked at each other, they were going to enjoy the next few hours…a lot!

* * *

Translation.

1\. You are not to blame for what happened between myself and your mama. We were proud that you considered us your parents. Even though we are not we both still love you and I am proud of the man you have become as your mama will be when I tell her.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Peters and Arkady's bodyguards flanked Arkady and Callen as they walked into the men's retail store.

"Mr. Kolcheck, welcome back," the proprietor said as the men entered the store. "A new suit so soon, was there a problem with your last one?" he asked worriedly.

Arkady smiled. "Alec, do not worry, my last suit was simply perfect. I need you to find a ready-to-wear suit for my son and another one for business."

Alec, without missing a beat, looked Callen over; "I think I have the perfect suits for you Mr. Kolcheck."

"Rostov, Gregori Rostov," Callen corrected him.

Arkady sighed dramatically, "Still moy syn, you insist on using your mother's surname."

Callen looked over at him looking to outsiders like this was a well worn argument, "Papa, I am proud of the surname, I am proud to be a Rostov."

No one could mistake the pride that flashed across Arkady's face. He waved his hands, "Go! Go! And do not bankrupt me!"

Callen laughed and walked off with the store owner.

* * *

While he was doing that, Arkady walked around picking up a few other things for his son. An assistant approached him and helped with his purchases.

" _I missed doing this," Arkady mused aloud._

"Sir?" the woman asked, listening a little more intently than she should.

"I haven't seen my son in a few years, he's been living with his mother in Russia." He reached into his wallet and pulled out a picture of a teenage boy, laughing on a swing. "He was a handful as a child, but refused to come with me to America. Now he is a man and cannot work; now he contacts me!" Arkady said with a sigh.

The woman's eyes widened. The boy in the picture was definitely the man with her boss and the well-worn photo had fit snugly in the wallet as if it had been there for years. She made a mental note and carried on helping him while casting glances at Callen. They did look alike and the glares and banter between them had her convinced that they were indeed father and son.

Two hours later when they left, the woman went to the back and picked up a phone.

"Sergei, it is Nadia. I have just seen Arkady Kolcheck with a boy who he says is his son. I thought you'd like the information. They are most definitely father and son. The way they act around each other, the familiarity and he carries a childhood photo in his wallet. Everything I have seen makes me believe he is truthful." She waited as he thanked her and then she went back to work spying for her boss.

* * *

As the door to the car closed, Arkady looked over to his son now in his new suit, "Not only do you look better, you passed the test."

"So you noticed," Callen replied.

"Noticed what…was the manager working for Malenkov?" Peters asked.

Both men shook their heads, "No, the assistant, she is Nadia Malenkov, his sister."

"So do we proceed?" Peters asked not realizing he was deferring to the Agent he had referred to as a kid earlier.

Callen's stomach rumbled and Arkady laughed, "We had better, it is time to get some decent food into you moy syn."

Pulling up outside the restaurant, Arkady's bodyguards got out first to scan the area before Arkady and his son got out.

"Mr. Kolcheck! It is an honor. Your usual table?"

"Set for two please, my son is joining me," he said proudly. The owner nodded, treating Arkady like royalty.

As he left to get their drinks, Arkady lowered his voice, "Sergei Malenkov has just come in the back door."

"Arkady!" Sergei called walking over to his table.

Arkady stood up and embraced Sergei as Callen looked on guardedly, "Sergei, my friend, what a surprise to see you. Would you like to join us?" Arkady asked with a friendly tone.

Sergei looked over at Callen as if assessing him, "If I am not intruding?"

Arkady smiled, "No, not at all, please sit, this is my son, Gregori."

Callen nodded but didn't say anything.

Arkady shrugged as he sat. "I did not know you had a son," Sergei said as he joined them.

"Gregori, go fetch us some bread," Arkady ordered. Knowing that he was planning on talking to Sergei alone, Callen did as he was told.

"It was a fling, a long time ago in Russia. His mother, she was a pretty thing, a prostitute. Only after moy syn was born, I had a ….how you say, DNA test done. He is definitely mine. She passed away several years ago and now he's just found me. I intend to show him all of America," Arkady said.

"I am sorry for your loss," Sergei said flatly.

Arkady nodded as Gregori came back to the table.

Sergei looked over at the boy. Granted there were some similarities between them, but as he dealt with Arkady himself he wanted to be sure that this wasn't a set up.

"So you are new to America?"

Callen nodded, "I came to Los Angeles first, and then I looked for my father and found him here in Florida," Callen said knowing that if Sergei looked hard enough he would find out he came on a plane from Los Angeles.

Sergei sat at the table watching him for any signs of deception. He did seem comfortable in the man's presence but something was guarded.

As Callen excused himself to go to the restroom, Sergei took the opportunity to question Arkady more. "He seems a bit jumpy."

Arkady sighed, "His mother died when he was fourteen. He's been alone on the streets of Karma ever since. He only had my name and had to earn his money to get to America. I haven't seen him since he was a boy." He pulled the well-worn photo out of his pocket; it was obvious to Sergei that it was indeed Gregori.

He looked at the back of the photo and noticed that the word  _Gregori_  was written on it. The faded ink indicated it was written years ago.

"So where was he staying?" Sergei asked genuinely interested.

"On the streets mostly. Some friends of his mother took him in for a while, and then he found someone who knew I was in America. He went to Los Angeles to look for me, and my contacts called me and I got him a ticket to Florida."

"That explains it, he is a smart boy," Sergei said, "What do you plan on doing with him?"

"Ah, sadly there I have a problem. I have no space for him in my business and if I give him a position, then I am accused of favoritism. So, I am forced to look for employment for him." Arkady shrugged. "I do not suppose you have an opening in your business anywhere? I would owe you a favor."

To be owed a favor from Arkady Kolcheck was something most of the Russian Mafia aspired to. Although not as prolific as most of the Russian Mafia families, Arkady had his hands in many pies and could pull most things off when asked. To have his son working for him, to have access to that kind of talent and have the great Arkady Kolcheck owe him a favor, this was something that Sergei couldn't turn down.

"Of course," Sergei smiled as Callen sat down and looked at the food his father had ordered. His stomach rumbled again.

"Growing boy, not yet used to three full meals a day," Arkady explained.

"Papa!" Callen exclaimed in mock shock.

Sergei nodded in understanding. "Gregori, you meet me at this address, 9 am tomorrow and I will give you work.

Callen's face scowled as he looked at his father, "Papa I not work for you?" he asked his accent really so thick as to have Sergei miss the motherland.

"Sadly no moy syn, I do not have an opening. Sergei will give you a good job and you will work hard or you will go right back to the streets where you came from," Arkady snapped at his boy.

Callen flinched on reflex. Any doubts Sergei had about Gregori being a street kid from Karma were washed away as no one could fake that kind of reaction. Kolcheck and the boy were exactly who they said they were.

* * *

Callen got up after Sergei had left and stormed to the door. Waiting for Arkady to pay the bill he went straight to the car and climbed inside. He didn't say a word the whole ride back to the hotel.

"Gregori?" Arkady said as he and Peters followed the younger man back to the hotel room. The idea that he had really upset his son hadn't occurred to him until that moment.

Arkady stopped and asked Peters to fill Agent Nigel in about the meeting as he walked to the door and knocked.

"Gregor…."

"Go away!" Callen yelled from the other room.

"No. Has that ever worked?" Arkady asked. He opened the door to find Callen sitting on the bed hugging his knees and staring out of the window.

"What's wrong?" He asked and sat on the end of the bed.

"It's nothing, it's stupid." Callen turned his head away.

Arkady stopped at the hitch in Callen's voice, "You are crying? This is nothing?" He reached out his hand and placed it on Callen's shoulder.

Callen jumped up and walked to the opposite end of the room. "It's silly," he snapped angrily, mad with himself.

"Callen, you could always talk to me," Arkady said softly.

When you said I could go back on the streets…." Callen said his anger boiling under the surface, "It hurt that you were saying that, it reminded me of when I left the last time, when I ran and…and I was hurt…and you weren't there…because…" he trailed off as Arkady wrapped his arms around him.

"It is not silly moy syn, you have been through so much, and your reaction did help sell your cover."

"It is I know why you went and I ran…not you, I won't let this affect me," Callen snarled turning his back on Arkady while he wrestled with his own emotions.

"Are you sure you are going to be alright?" Arkady asked concerned at the undercurrent of anger in his son.

"Papa, I will be ok, I just need a while," Callen begged him.

Arkady nodded and left the room. Ready to fill them all in on Sergei's operation, he waited for Callen to join them and tell them just how they were going to pull this off.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Callen had been working with Sergei Malenkov for two months slowly gathering all the information he needed to help stop the new drug pipeline from being financed. With Agent Mark Peters acting as Mikhail Romanov, Callen had managed to keep in contact with them as Mikhail was acting as Arkady's bodyguard.

Peters had been picking Gregori up once a week on Friday under the pretense of Arkady wanting to have a meal and spend time with his son. Sergei was apparently fine with it and had allowed the boy time off to see his father.

However, this Friday, Callen wasn't there to meet him as he pulled up.

Sergei sat in his office as Peters walked in.

"Hey, is Gregori around? I am to take him to his father?" He asked.

Sergei looked up, "He is working; I know he will not be around for a few days. Tell Arkady not to worry, he will be fine," he said waving the man away.

Peters stood firm, "Arkady made it clear that Gregori was to attend this evening. If you let me know where he is, I will collect him."

"Mikhail, do not worry. Gregori was on a run with some of my men. They must have run into a delay as they should have been back yesterday and haven't checked in yet. It is most likely they had a tire blowout and are holed up at a motel somewhere," Sergei said with an air of arrogance.

Peters looked at him - something was off. There was no way that Callen would go off the grid without contacting someone on the team.

Shaking his head he walked out of the building and over to the car where Arkady was waiting. "He's not here," he stated flatly.

Arkady looked concerned, "Stay here." He said and walked into Malenkov's office.

"Where is my son?" he asked.

Sergei looked up, and smiled, "Arkady, my friend. Do not worry about your son; he is just a few days late. He had to go to New York; the bright lights may have distracted him."

Arkady looked at Sergei's face and he didn't appear to be lying but something didn't sit right with him.

"He is not the sort to get distracted," he growled with annoyance.

"In Karma, or the motherland maybe, but New York?" Sergei said spreading his palms wide in the universal signal of innocence.

Arkady backed off, "You call me the second you hear from him," he said as he opened the door.

They walked outside and Sergei was staring at him intently. "Of course I will." His smile was feral, which made both Peters' and Arkady's blood run cold. "A word my friend?" he asked, motioning Arkady away from Peters.

Arkady nodded and followed Sergei, "What is the problem my old friend?"

"We have had Intel that someone from the CIA or the DEA is breaking into our little operation. Our backers have asked to have a conversation with your son. He will be home in a day or two, so you have nothing to worry about," Sergei said as Arkady's heart clenched.

"Of course, Mikhail!" Arkady called, "We shall go. Gregori will be back in a few days and we will catch up then," he said and climbed into the car.

Peters climbed in with him and closed the door.

"We my friend, are in very big troubles," Arkady said and ran his hand down his face.

"Why?" Peters asked as the car moved off, "What's happened?"

"I have just been warned that the group dealing with Malenkov has Callen. They are questioning him as they have had word the CIA or DEA are trying to get a foothold in the pipeline."

"How on Earth did they get that information?" Peters asked.

"I do not know but someone is filling them in. I suggest you talk to your superiors," Arkady said gruffly as the car stopped and Peters got out near his hotel.

"I will," Mark Peters promised, and headed inside.

Callen opened his eyes blinking as the blood dripped down from a cut above his eyebrow.

"I will ask you again, who do you work for?" The voice behind the light asked.

His voice cracked as he answered the same way he had for the past two days, "I work for Sergei Malenkov."

Sergei moved in front of the light so Callen could see him, "I know you are working for me, but who do you report to? I have been told you are a DEA Agent."

"I am just a kid…I do not have American passport, how can I work for the government?" Callen coughed, "You met my father, you know who I am."

"I know who you say you are but I have information to the contrary."

"My father will kill you if you harm me," Callen spat. He kicked his legs out at Malenkov as he walked around his hanging body.

"Your father…he looks like you and you two have a connection, but something is wrong. I do not believe he is your father."

"HE IS MY FATHER!" Callen yelled, straining against his bonds as Sergei injected something into his neck.

Sergei laughed, "And yet when I told the old fool you were here, he did nothing," Sergei snarled.

Callen's face broke, "W…what? My father knows I'm here?"

"Said I could do what I wanted, he didn't care," Sergei gloated.

"No." Callen breathed, "You're lying. My father wouldn't abandon me."

"He's done it before though, hasn't he?"

Callen dropped his head, "Yes."

Sergei cut him down and lowered him onto the mattress on the floor, "Here moy syn, let me help you with your wounds. Tell me about him, when did he abandon you?"

Callen sighed. The water felt cool against the wounds on his wrist, head and back. The drug was flooding through his system and he felt himself relaxing. "Tell me," Sergei asked gently.

"I was fourteen. He was a great father. He would get up every morning and spend time with me tossing a ball, reading with me or just talking while mama made breakfast. He was smart and would help me with my homework when I needed it. And then one day he was gone and I was alone."

"How did that make you feel?" Sergei asked, surprised at the answer. He'd felt for sure that the boy was lying.

"He broke my heart. I was all alone and no one cared, so I ran away," he said.

"How did you find him again?" Sergei asked.

"He found me. He still loved me. He said it was a mistake that we had been separated."

"You know you can't lie, so I will ask you one more time. Is Arkady Kolcheck your father?"

"Yes," Callen answered, "But I am not his son." He let out a giggle. Sergei rolled his eyes; the damn drug always made people loopy.

"You're not?" Sergei asked.

"Nope. His son, the boy he loved, died when I ran away. I'm just this pathetic shell of a kid not worthy of the Kolcheck name. That's why I still have my mama's name."

Sergei looked at him, "Rest Gregori, you need some rest. You have passed the test."

"That's not my name…my name is G."

"A nick name?" Sergei asked.

"Papa calls them Knick Knack Names." Callen laughed, "I like Papa's version better."

Sergei walked out and shut the door. Turning to his partner, he washed his hands and threw the towel over the chair.

"He is telling the truth. Arkady is a cold hearted bastard, leaving his kid at fourteen."

His partner turned to him and smiled, "I am impressed," he said, his British accent a contrast to the Russian ones.

His shaved head and growing beard belaying the soft tones of his voice, he leaned towards Sergei, "I know what I was told. Someone has infiltrated you - you need to watch your back."

Sergei poured himself a drink and sat at the table shaking his head, "Trent Kort, you are a good friend but a devious bastard. Tell me, why do we not just kill him?"

"Because we may need him alive," Trent replied looking through the window at the kid still on the mattress, eyes open but not moving. He hoped that Callen could keep it together through the next few hours and not spill any secrets about this plan.


	17. Chapter 17

Callen flinched as the British man came over to him again. He pulled another needle out of his pocket - it was empty.

For a second Callen worried that the man was going to inject him with air and kill him. He thrashed and pulled away as he got closer.

"Calm down Rostov. I just need to get some blood from you."

"No…No! Get off me," Callen snarled. Even in his drugged and dehydrated state, his Russian accent was flawless. "No needles!" He was flinching. He'd never had a fear of needles before but in the two months he'd been here he was now terrified of them.

Kort took his blood, "If this comes back correct you'll be out of here and back with your father as soon as possible."

"Papa? Does he know I'm here? If he finds you…." Callen dropped his head as a new batch of sedatives overtook his body.

"I do not understand. My source swore he was a CIA spy, DEA or FBI. His accent is still intact and he swears that Kolcheck is his father," Sergei said stunned.

"Maybe he  _is_  telling the truth. Have you had any problems with Kolcheck?"

"No. I think he believes me, however, he does keep asking about his son."

"I'll get my girl to rush this, soon we will know either way," Kort promised. "This new DNA thing is a godsend," he remarked before he left the building.

While drifting in and out of consciousness Callen listened intently. The British man was  _strange_. He was giving Malenkov information that even Callen knew to be false and was in his own way helping him, like giving him food and water when no one was around. Once Callen had thanked him, but a quick backhander from the man and an insistence that if he talked that would be the last of the food, stopped Callen from talking really quickly. But it didn't stop him from listening.

He listened when Malenkov talked to his counterpart and arranged for a meeting to set up the financing for the new drug pipeline. Where it was going to take place, who was going and what the security arrangements were. All Callen needed to do was to get out of there.

Sergei looked with disdain at the man hanging up on the oversized meat hook. He didn't care if he lived or died, but Arkady Kolcheck's money was not to be sneezed at. He understood that Sergei had taken his boy for information, but now he wanted him back. He wasn't prepared to wait any longer as the half a million dollars sitting in a briefcase by his feet attested to how  _much_  Kolcheck wanted his boy back.

"Midday, on the Keys, usual meeting place," Sergei said and closed his phone. He turned to one of his men, "Cut him down and put him in the trunk," he ordered.

Callen hit the floor with a thud and that was the last thing he remembered for several hours.

* * *

Arkady paced across the room while Trevor, Neal and Mark Peters watched him. "Callen is a capable agent and he  _will_ get in touch with us as soon as he can," Peters said.

"I don't like it. He should not have been in this situation in the first place," Arkady said. "I shouldn't have left him." He looked out of the window, his mind wandering.

"How long can he stay at a motel anyway?" Peters asked.

" _Motel_?" Arkady reiterated. "Who told you he was at a motel? He's in  _New York_."

"Malenkov told me he had a flat tire and was staying at a motel where he probably met a pretty girl," Peters told him.

Arkady's face grew cold and his blue eyes darkened.

"That is  _not_ what I was told," he growled. He picked up his phone and started talking in Russian. Neither of the agents who were listening understood a word of what was being said.

Arkady grabbed his jacket and went to the door. "Where are you going?" Trevor asked.

"I need to get my son back." Arkady looked directly at them, "If you wish to help, please, come with me."

Peters grabbed his coat, "You'd better let the office know what's happening, we may need to move things forward a bit," he said.

Trevor opened his phone and as the two men left he started filling head office in on what was happening.

* * *

Hetty sat in her office; she couldn't believe the conversation she just had. Anatoli Rostov, now known as Arkady Kolcheck, had just called her out of the blue. Remembering she was CIA, he had hoped she could help him and gain access to the information needed to save his son. Callen finding the Rostov's after all these years shocked her. To find out he was DEA and had been kidnapped, left her floored. She quickly looked through her files and grabbing her bag, she left the office.

Granger, who was working down the hall, looked up as his partner walked past. "Hetty? Hetty!" he called and ran down the hall.

Hetty looked distressed as she turned to him.

"Owen, we made such a mistake. We should never have split them up." Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she looked at him.

" _Who_?" Owen asked confused.

"Callen and the Rostov's. He's working with Arkady Kolcheck on a DEA sting. Something went wrong and he's missing."

"The kid is  _DEA_?" Owen said surprised. "I thought he would have been a dealer by now," he mused aloud and yelped as Hetty hit him with her handbag.

"You have  _no_  idea who his parents are. This is in his blood, and he'll probably turn out to be an exceptional agent," Hetty replied. She was definitely going to keep an eye on him if, no, make that,  _when_ they found him again.

"Fine. So what's the hurry?"

"He's missing; Arkady thinks that Sergei Malenkov has him."

"Shit!" Granger spat. "I have a man inside on that one, new guy, Kort."

"Can we get him to help?"

"I will try and contact him. He's a pain, half English and acts like it -you know, stuck up and annoying."

"Owen I doubt all English people are annoying."

"Hey, he's the first one I've met," Owen argued.

"We need to get hold of him soon; I need to know if he knows where Callen is," Hetty said.

Granger turned and motioned for her to follow him to his office as he picked up his phone and made a call.

Callen raised his head taking in his new surroundings. He didn't know how long he'd been there. Sergei had been down a few times and had beaten him in an attempt to get information out of him, but Callen had been steely in his resolve and had stuck to his story. He was quite proud of himself for not allowing his accent to slip. He had a job to do and the more information he could get and give to his handler, the better. This was after all his first undercover assignment with the DEA and he was determined to be successful.

The British man who had been down a few times had disappeared as his phone rang. Callen listened and could hear his voice from down the hall. "Damn it Owen! If Malenkov had been here you could have blown the whole operation. Yeah Kolcheck's boy is here?" There was a pause as he listened to Owen, "He's a  _what?_  That can't be right. I did a DNA test." The British man slammed his phone down and stormed into the room and looked Callen in the eyes.

"Bloody hell," he cursed as he cut him down.

* * *

Callen fell to the floor and pulling himself into a protective ball, he moved to the corner expecting to get hit again.

"I have to get you out of here. You should have told me you were DEA."

"Not…a…fed. I'm Gregori Rostov!" Callen insisted.

"I know who you are,  _Special Agent_  Callen. I'm Trent Kort, CIA."

"Not Callen! Rostov," he maintained.

Kort sighed, "Fine. Rostov, whatever …come with me, I'm getting you out of here."

"Why?" Callen asked as he looked up at Kort's outstretched hand, "Why are you helping me?"

Kort rolled his eyes, "Don't you think you are taking this poor little street kid persona a bit far?"

Callen blinked as he slowly pulled himself unsteadily up refusing his hand.

It suddenly hit Kort. It wasn't a persona; the untrusting street kid was  _real._  But he didn't understand - how he could be a street kid when he had family?

"Malenkov is meeting with Dracul Comescu today about the financing of the pipeline. You need to pass this information on. I'll help you as far as I can, but you need to go the rest of the way alone. Give this information to your handler." Kort handed him a sheet of paper and Callen stuffed it in his pocket. Feeling the bruises on his body starting to throb, he carefully climbed in Kort's car, keeping himself at the back on the opposite side to Kort for safety.

Pulling over down a side street Kort looked back at Callen and threw him his gun, "Kolcheck lives down here somewhere, find him, get your handler and pass on the information."

"How are you going to explain my disappearance to Malenkov?" Callen asked after picking up his gun and checking the clip.

"I'll find a way kid, now get outta here." Kort stopped and opened his window as Callen limped past, "You know, you're a good kid. If you ever get tired at the DEA, give me a call," he said. Callen nodded and headed to Arkady's home.

* * *

Arkady, Hetty and Peters' were sitting in the living room. Hetty had arrived a few hours ago and on Granger's insistence they were waiting there for news.

"I do not like this, we should be looking for him," Arkady said.

"We can't do anything. Owen has a man inside who will get him out and then get word to us," she told him.

They looked up as they heard a knock at the door and then saw the handle turn.

"Callen!" Peters yelled as the young agent stumbled through the doorway and passed out, face down on the floor.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Arkady was the first to cross the gap between Callen and them. "Callen? Moy syn…Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

Callen tried to pull himself away from the hands grabbing at him. "Papa?" he asked.

"I am here," Arkady replied, waving the others back. "You are safe."

"Need….Dracul…pipeline," Callen mumbled pressing the paper into Arkady's hand before he passed out.

Arkady looked up at the others, "Quick…help me get him to the spare room," he ordered.

Peters took his legs as they carried Callen through to the room Arkady directed them to.

Hetty followed behind, "It seems our old friends are in this again. The Comescu's are financing the pipeline between Russia and Florida; I will let my people know."

* * *

Arkady looked at her, "I need you to call this number," he wrote a number down and handed it to her, "A doctor I can trust. I need to know what they did to my boy." There was a fury in his eyes that frightened even Hetty.

She looked worried but she lifted the phone and dialed the number.

"Privet." A voice came from down the line.

"Arkady Kolcheck poprosil menya pozvonit' vam. On skazal vy vrach, on doveryayet yemu nuzhna vasha pomoshch'," she said.

"Yavlyayetsya li on raneniya?" the voice sounded down the other end full of concern.

Arkady took the phone from Hetty and barked at the man on the other end, "Eto moy syn, yemu bol'no i nuzhdayetsya v vas seychas, ty mne dolzhen ... ty obyazan yemu!" He slammed the phone shut and smiled at Hetty, "Sometimes you have to push, no?"

Hetty looked quizzically at the man who had for a while been Callen's father, wondering if she had missed something.

Not giving her a second glance, he walked past Peters and into the room where Callen was resting.

He sat on the edge of the bed running his hand through Callen's hair in a comforting gesture. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper Callen had given him. "I hope this is worth the price he paid; I think this is your information." Arkady handed it to Peters. "He has done enough, let him rest now," Arkady said as Peters opened his mouth to try to wake Callen up.

* * *

The door knocked and a man about Arkady's age stood there.

"Hans. You have your bag?" Arkady asked.

Hans Schreiber walked in the door, "I haven't practiced since the old country Nikolai," he said, "But yes I have my bag."

He walked to the door, Hetty following behind trying to get a read on this new person. "Ok, tell me what happened?" Hans asked walking to the door, "Who?" he stopped as he saw the figure on the bed.

Grabbing Arkady by the arm and moving him into another room he slammed the door shut. "Are you crazy?" He yelled.

"Hans, this was not my doing. It is circumstance, which brought him back into my life for a third time."

" _Circumstance?_ " Hans was stunned, "I have followed him my whole life. I was scared for you both when he ended up in your care the first time. You promised me you could handle it, then you got moved with the witness protection and now he is back. One day he will make the connection. You promised his mother!" he snapped.

Arkady sighed, "I did," he said quietly. "He does not know, nor will he ever. This is still our secret my friend. But I cannot allow him to be hurt like this; you have to help him. _Please._  If not for me, for Clara."

Hans sighed and nodded, "Very well Nikolai."

"Arkady," he said, "Outside of this room I am Arkady Kolcheck, or was Toli Rostov.  _ **Never**_  was I Nikolai Resnikov, you understand?"

"Ok, Arkady," Hans corrected. "And for the record, I now go by Michael Reinhardt."

Arkady nodded, "Now let's go help my son before the others get suspicious."

* * *

Arkady and Michael left the room and when they walked into the room where Callen was lying on the bed, Peters and Hetty stood up.

"This is Michael, he is a friend and a doctor, and he will help us. I trust him," Arkady said ignoring the look that Michael gave him.

Hetty moved away from her spot beside the bed and Peters moved as well, looking at the man, "Very well but we're watching," he threatened.

Arkady moved in front of Peters, "I trust him, I do not trust you and yet I allow you in my home. Pray I do not change my mind," he snapped.

"Callen is  _my_  agent," Peters said,

Arkady said nothing but sent him a glare that actually made Peters shiver.

* * *

Michael moved over to Callen and with practiced hands he checked him over. "G…what have they done to you…?" he muttered to himself.

He took his bag out and gave him an antibiotic and vitamin shot. Lifting his shirt everyone breathed in as the bruising on his torso was revealed. There were small cuts, which Michael managed to patch up and bandage.

Eventually he stood up, "He will be alright; he's lived through worse," he said, not thinking.

"Thank you my friend," Arkady said as he started to usher him out the door.

"Doc?" Callen turned opening his eyes. He was surprised to see a familiar face, the doctor who had seen him a few times in his childhood.

Michael turned but Callen had gone back to sleep.

Nodding to Arkady, Michael walked to the door.

"Stay safe my friend. My debt to you is not yet paid," he said as he walked away.

* * *

Arkady sighed and as turned to go back to the room, Hetty stopped him in the hallway.

"It is obvious that Sergei Malenkov is in this up to his neck," she told him. "I have informed my people about the Comescu's and they are taking care of it, but Malenkov is still…"

" _Mine!"_ Arkady cut her off. "I trusted the man, I should have found Callen earlier, and now he is battered, bruised and asleep in the other room. I will make Malenkov pay for this."

Hetty shuddered, "You would have made a great father for him when he was younger. I just wanted to say I am sorry I didn't fight harder for him to go with you."

Arkady shrugged, "He was safer where he was. You did your best Henrietta. I will always care about him…like he was my own," he said turning away.

"Owen called while you were talking with the doctor. His man on the inside is going to make contact with us. He knows where you are and will be here in an hour."

"Good I hope he will be here. I have some questions for him." Arkady walked back to Callen's room where he was sleeping soundly, the medication doing its job. He turned to Peters who was sitting in the chair, "He will be safe here. Henrietta has talked to her people and a man is heading down with more information."

"Who?" Peters asked following Arkady out of the room and gently closing the door.

Hetty turned to them, "A new man, Trent Kort. He is being pulled from his current operation and will be here within the hour."

"I have some errands to run," Arkady said, "I will be back by then." He went over to the freezer, got something out and walked towards the door.

"Keep him safe," he said as walked out the door.

Peter's turned to Hetty. "You think we can trust him?" he asked.

She sighed and watched Arkady's car speed out of the driveway, "With Mr. Callen, we can trust him with his life.  _Sergei Malenkov?_  I fear we will be seeing bodies turn up before long."

* * *

Translations

Hello

Arkady Kolcheck asked me to call you. He said you are a doctor he trusts he needs your help.

Is he injured

It is my son, he is in pain and he needs you now. You owe me…you owe him!

 


	19. Chapter 19

Arkady's mood was black as he gunned the car engine.

Sergei had misused his friendship with Arkady and even worse; he had hurt his son. This would not go unpunished.

Sergei smiled and nodded to his bodyguards as he saw Arkady's car pull up, "My friend, I have been meaning to contact you. Did your son turn up?" he asked his voice and face totally innocent looking.

Arkady smiled, this was going to be fun, "Yes he did and he is currently sleeping off the effects of his little trip," he said with a friendly tone. "I am about to go for coffee. I wondered if you wished to join me?" he asked.

Sergei knew he'd gotten away with it; Arkady only invited a few people to go to coffee with him. He puffed up a bit at his own audacity and grabbed his coat.

Kort looked up, "Are we going somewhere?" he asked.

Sergei smiled, "I have…how you say…  _pulled the sheep over the old goat's eyes_ my friend,  _and_  we are going for coffee with Arkady."

"Wool," Kort corrected him with a sigh. He didn't know what Arkady was up to but he grabbed his coat and followed Sergei.

Climbing into the car, Sergei sat at the front as Arkady pulled away from the office. Trent followed them in his.

Sergei chatted about his business and how much he was looking forward to the new developments that he was sure to be in on.

Arkady smiled and nodded as he drove just waiting for the predetermined spot where he would pull over. "So," he said pulling into a parking space near the Florida swamps. "My boy was at a motel for the last two months when we couldn't find him?" he asked still with a friendly smile on his face.

"I…yes, I told you. I think he met a nice girl, you know what the young are like," he replied, trying to simulate a confident smile.

Arkady nodded and got out of the car.

He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and squatted down while pulling his gun from the holster, "You told me he was in New York.  _Get out!"_

Sergei held his hands in the international position of surrender. "Arkady,  _my friend._ "

" _Enough_!" Arkady's voice boomed causing the birds in the nearby trees to flee. Trent pulled his gun, "I can't let you hurt him Kolcheck."

Arkady looked over at the British man, "Trent Kort, this is none of the CIA's concern," he told him flatly.

Trent nodded. "I have a meeting at your home later. It'd probably be best if we didn't turn up together," he said as he turned and walked to his car.

"You can't leave me!" Sergei screamed at Kort who ignored him, climbed into his car and drove off.

* * *

"Apparently he can." Arkady smirked and turned his attention back to the matter in hand.

"Arkady…I meant nothing bad by it. I didn't realize he was  _really_  your son. I was told he was a spy; if I had only known." Sergei's voice dropped to a whimper.

"Sergei Malenkov, you discovered something that I went to great pains to hide  _and_  you hurt my son."

"But you told me he was your son!" Sergei protested as he struggled at the handcuffs Arkady had just attached to his wrists.

"You took a blood sample." Arkady shook his head. " _Big_  mistake."

Sergei looked around wildly hoping to see someone,  _anyone._

"I went to great lengths to keep him safe, not from you, but from others who will hurt him if they know who I am.  _You_  put that in jeopardy," Arkady spat.

"But he does know he's your son?" Sergei countered still trying to save his own life.

"No he does not. He thinks I'm the foster father he was placed with as a young teen. That was a mistake on my second wife's part as she had no idea about my Clara and his sister in the old country, and she never will. Callen will continue to believe that I was Anatoli Rostov and that I had no idea why people were after him."

"I won't tell anyone now that I know he's not a spy with the CIA," Sergei promised as his eyes still searched for a way to escape.

"But he _is_  a spy with the DEA and no, you won't tell."

Arkady produced a knife from his belt and cut several small cuts along Sergei's face before kicking him backwards into the swamp.

Arkady wiped his hands on the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket and walked back to his car. A smile crept from his lips, as he heard not the sounds of the alligators entering the water, but the piercing screams of the man who tortured his son and the unmistakable sound of those deathly tails thrashing through the water.

Sergei's screams were muffled as he closed the car door and drove off.

* * *

Callen woke up and saw Peters sitting at the end of his bed.

"What happened?" he asked

"You were missing but returned to us a few days ago with the information we needed. That CIA lady, Hetty, took the information and passed it on."

"Who were we looking for?" Callen asked.

Peters frowned, "You don't remember?"

Callen sat up clutching at his head, "Not really. I only remember Malenkov and being  _questioned_ by him. There was a guy with a British accent who helped me. I don't remember much else except some bits and pieces of a room and people but not their faces.

"When you're up to it we will have to get back for a debrief. I had to hand this over to the CIA. Sorry kid, but according to  _our_  superiors, you screwed up."

Callen scowled at him, "What do you mean I screwed up? I got the Intel  _and_  I didn't let my cover get blown."

Peters sighed, "You know how our boss is when other agencies get involved."

Callen nodded in understanding. Although it was an unwritten rule, it was held in highest regard amongst the administration – unless there wasn't any other way to get the job done.

"Fine." Callen said. He didn't care, as it was time to move on. "We did get them and stop it, right?

Peters smiled at him, "For today." He watched the young agent lay back down, his eyes closing as his head hit the pillow. Peters couldn't help but feel sorry for him, the orphaned street kid. "You got 'em kid," he whispered as Callen fell asleep.

* * *

He looked up to see Hetty standing in the doorway and followed her out.

"Do you really think the DEA will fire him over this?" she asked as they walked to the living room and sat down.

"I do. Maybe not right away because he's a damn good agent and they will use that to their advantage -until they no longer have a use for him." Peters was developing a soft spot for Callen and felt he should convey that as well as his professional opinion. "He's one of the best I've worked with, however, if you tell him that, I will deny it," Peters said.

Hetty nodded as she filed that piece of information for later as she was known to do on occasion. It was a trait that had proved quite valuable overs the years.

"I have to leave," Hetty said. "I'm being recalled. You'll need to co-ordinate with our agent when he gets here and then I will debrief him when he gets back." She stood up and extended her hand, "Good to work with you Agent Peters, I hope to have the opportunity to do so again." She walked to the door and left, leaving Peters to wonder just what it was the older woman had been thinking when she shot a longing look towards Callen's door as she left.

* * *

A few moments later the door opened and a tall clean-cut man walked in, "Agent Peters, DEA I presume," he said in a slightly sarcastic tone that was made more apparent with the British accent.

"Yes, and you are…?"

"Trent Kort, CIA. I'm here to debrief you, Arkady Kolcheck and Agent Callen," he replied.

"Kolcheck is out, he'll be back soon and Callen is resting," Peters said gesturing the man to step on the carpet.

"Resting?" Kort feigned innocence.

"He was captured by Malenkov and  _held_ for a few months. We only got him back two days ago."

Kort nodded and turned as Callen, dressed but still looking disheveled, limped into the room. He leant against the door-frame glancing over at Kort. He looked familiar but couldn't quite place where he had seen him. After a few moments, it hit him, "You're the guy in the car," he said moving around the room keeping as much distance between himself and the CIA agent as possible.

"Yes Callen, I am," Kort said waiting for more.

"Did you get them? The guys who  _questioned_  me?" he asked.

Kort raised an eyebrow. Callen didn't recognize him from Sergei's basement.

"Yes we did. We need to debrief you. What do you remember?" Kort asked as he positioned himself so that Callen could get a good look at him.

"Not much, they were asking me stuff. Things about Arkady; Who I was; I don't remember much else right now." Callen stopped and looked intently at him, "You're CIA. I remember that. Did I tell?  _God!_  I told, didn't I? I blew the whole operation." Callen stood up and started pacing towards the door and then the window.

"It's my fault. I blew the whole operation!" Callen started to hyperventilate but kept his arms protectively wrapped around him, not wanting to let on how much he hurt.

"Callen.  _Uspokoit'sya syn, vy budete vred sebya snova!"_  Arkady said as he walked through the door shooting Kort a piercing look before he positioned himself beside Callen.

Callen slumped carefully into the chair that Arkady guided him to. "You must rest," he said.

Callen shrugged, "Why? I can't do my job from a chair," he argued.

Arkady looked at him, "Your job is over. The financing has been pulled and Malenkov has left town under mysterious circumstances," he said looking at Kort who nodded.

"It is time for you to return home," Arkady said swallowing a small lump in his throat that threatened to betray him.

Callen, not thinking, just stood up and walked to his room to grab his bag as Peters followed.

* * *

Kort placed a hand on Arkady's shoulder, "The street kid. That's not an act, is it?"

Arkady shook his head, "No it is not."

"Does he know? I mean  _now_?"

Arkady shot him a glaring look and walked towards Callen, where he then pulled him into a one armed hug, "You know, I think my business interests may be better served if I relocate to Los Angeles," he said.

Callen smiled, "I may find myself working there sometime soon as well. We should keep in touch," he said

Arkady nodded, "That would be good. Safe journey Callen," he said and watched as the two Agents left.

Kort walked over to him.

"He doesn't know does he? I mean that you  _really are_  his father," Kort clarified.

Arkady shook his head, "For a while, due to a twist of fate, I became his foster father. That's what he knows of me. He knows nothing of his mother."

"I looked up the name Callen and found a file on a Clara Callen. Shot on a beach in Romania while her son …" He stopped as Arkady put a hand on his shoulder.

"This information you have, you need to lose it," he said, although kindly, the hidden threat was clear. "I owe you for saving my son, but his life would be in danger if he ever found out, as would his little sister's. I have already lost one child, do not put my other ones in danger," he said.

Kort nodded in understanding. Having heard and seen what Arkady was capable of, he knew he would never tell Callen or anyone else about this conversation. And Arkady Kolcheck being in his debt might just come in handy someday.

* * *

Translation

"Callen, Calm down son, you'll harm yourself again!"

 


End file.
